Tweets - February 2015

February 1: 6 years ago I first called @robhu my boyfriend. Now he's my husband and the father of our baby. I love you my Rob monster. :-*

February 2: Team Zissou baby. http://campl.us/rV0s

February 4: I have an activity centre the size of my head but looking at mummy's phone is far more interesting.

February 4: Today my little monkey is 26 weeks old. Happy half birthday Phoebe! Today we saw some tiny newborns and you looked so big!

I have the sweetest alarm clock. She wakes me up with gurgles and pats and only the occasional finger in the mouth or eye.

February 5: Thursday's to do list. With annotations by Rob.

Cherubic sleeping baby.

Baby sleeping. I've had a shower, blow dried my hair, got dressed and now I'm eating breakfast. Luxury!

Sunbathing position.

Accomplished!

February 6: Phoebe likes chewing on muslin squares. Mind you, that's true of anything she can grab.

Things Phoebe is interested in chewing: hands (hers or mummy's), string of teething necklace, zip of mummy's fleece, her jacket sleeves.

Things Phoebe is not interested in chewing: teething necklace, Lamaze hippo toy with chewable ribbon knots.

Slowley family selfie. :-) Out at a restaurant to celebrate Phoebe's half birthday.

Phoebe behaved beautifully at D'Arry's. She had milk while we waited for the food to arrive and then sat on my lap and played with broccoli.

Baby's first cappuccino moustache.

February 9: Loving @beatonna's baby cartoons. Especially  So true!

That lovely moment when you pick up your baby and she's sick straight down your cleavage. :-/

February 11: Happy avocado smeared Phoebe.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! Itchy boob! Woe! I want to go to sleep. :-(

February 12: I put Phoebe down next to me and she rolls closer to snuggle. Hang on, what's that warm sensation on my shoulder. Oh it's sick. Thanks baby.

Just below my chin, a sweet sleeping baby.

Got Phoebe from crying to giggling by singing Phoebe-be-be-be-be-be to the tune of the hall of the mountain king & bouncing to the music.

The problems of having small arms. Phoebe is very good at pushing food to the edges of the highchair team where she then can't reach it.

Phoebe has now given up on trying to eat the food and is instead playing with/chewing the sleeves of her oversized Wipe Clean bib.

Swoosh goes an arm. The pile of food which has accumulated at one side of the tray cascades to the floor.

February 13: Aaaaaaaaargh! Again. Extreme burning pain. I think I have ductal thrush. Hope I can see a sympathetic GP today. ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!

Sleeping baby transferred off mummy and still sleeping. Feel like a Mama ninja!

Flailing arms tipped with razors. Tiny fingers which hook onto nostrils. These are the means by which a tiny baby colonises a king size bed.

February 16: Valentines art by Rob. :-)

February 17: A day without Phoebe. I missed her, she missed me and was grumpy. But big smiles when she got me back and when we returned home to @robhu.

February 20: Dreamt I got stuck on a UKIP battle bus. They were friendly, but weird and kept trying to break my phone.

February 22: Phoebe is obsessed with sticking out her tongue and licking everything.

Rob likes giving Phoebe tiny amounts of things to taste. Today he gave her a little vinegar on his finger. She was not impressed!

February 23: When did all-in-ones/babygros become even standard wear for babies?

Mummy milk makes everything better. For Phoebe anyway. Wish it worked on other things/people too.

February 24: Tucking into bread and hummus. Yum!

February 25: Daddy's kazoo.

February 26: Phoebe has noticed there's another mummy in the mirror. She looks back and forth between me and the mirror with an air of puzzlement.

February 27: Signs of spring. :-)

Phoebe's gums squeak as she chews on the knobbly beads of my (teething safe) necklace. This one.

Phoebe and I are being serenaded with classic Nintendo tunes played on the kazoo by @robhu. I think that's his idea of a lullaby.

February 28: Hungry baby! Third feed since 8pm last night. Tired mummy.

Monkey is disinclined to sleep. She would rather babble, wave her arms around, chew my hands and stick sharp little fingers up my nose.