And doesn't time fly. Our little girl is now into her third round of sizes - she's mostly wearing 00's, although she's up to 0's in the oddly-sized Bonds and Target Bright Bots growth suit range.
Her parents are very boring - we favour the 'feminist purple' and hot pink Baby Bots cotton suits with velour polar fleece suits for cold nights.
We have given up storing clothes - if Hannah has a little sister, we will start again. Most items we received free of charge anyway, grow suits can be had for less than $10 each from Target and other new parents deserve the baby clothes karma we have benefited from.
Hannah is drinking 180ml of mama's milk five times a day (only the fresh stuff - we're hoping she will accept some of the frozen milk mixed with her food when she gets onto solids).
She is pressing up strongly on her elbows, lifting her head and kicking with incredible force. She does not yet roll or crawl properly but she loves playing a counting game where we help lift her into standing position. She's also learnt that when she gets put onto the change table to put her legs up so we can easily change her nappy. She is a very clever, as well as strong girl.
She smiles occasionally for us but is mostly a very serious little girl. She can break our hearts with her steady serious gaze from her big brown eyes.
As part of our bedtime routine I read Hannah a chapter of a book each night even though she is too young to understand anything yet. This gets her used to my voice and to the concept of reading and signals that it is time to go to sleep. After getting bored senseless reading about Spot the dog I decided I would only read what I enjoyed - a bored reader does not transmit a love of books to the listener.
We have read Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass;we are now reading Winnie the Pooh. I have discovered that these classics not only stand the test of time but are more enjoyable when read out loud - it's hard to appreciate the poetry and verse when read silently to one's self. The books are clearly designed as much for adults as children with clever puns and delightful nonsense that stand many repeated reads.
My mouth is still open in shock from a conversation I had last week with the grandmother of a 10-year-old girl with serious entitlement issues.
While visiting relatives overseas, the 10-year-old had apparently fallen in love with their house. This is perfectly normal. What I found disturbing and abnormal was that the girl had then presented the relative with a piece of paper asking that he write on it that she was to get the house after he died! And apparently this is not the first relative she has hit on in this way.
Where on earth does a 10-year-old get the idea that this is normal and acceptable behaviour? I used to joke that based on the behaviour of its student body, the very expensive private school she attends (and Hannah will not, even if we win the lottery) must have classes on materialism and entitlement. But I suspect that one must look much closer to home.
Whatever our financial situation is in the future, Hannah is going to be brought up knowing that if she wants certain material things, she will have to work to pay for them herself. This doesn't mean that her father and I won't help her if we can - my entry into home ownership was made much easier thanks to relatives who helped me get together the deposit for my first (relatively modest) flat but I never expected or demanded such help. And by work for them I mean a regular job as a gardener, engineer, cafe manager or the like - not as a glorified prostitute who only dates/marries men of a certain income.
I know from my own experience that the freedom that comes from the knowledge that you have and can support yourself financially is worth more than a dozen expensive houses bequeathed to you by others. Every gift comes with its own price, emotional or otherwise. It is exhilarating to look around my house and know that aside from a few pieces of furniture and dishes (and the original assistance with my first deposit) both it and everything it contains is the result and my and my husband's hard work. I don't want to deprive Hannah of this experience.
If anyone lacking a sense of humour overheard Hannah's dad and me talking about her we'd probably be up on charges of intent to commit cannibalism.
"Yum, yum baby back ribs..."
"You can have the ribs, I want those nice meaty drumsticks."
"I'm basting her with the special sorbolene sauce."
"Baby stuffed with mummy-milk. Yum, yum."
Hannah clearly appreciates her inherent tastiness. She spends most of he waking hours now sucking her fingers and hand and trying to stuff one or both fists at the same time into her mouth. Maybe she is a self-cannibal.
I'm not quite sure why so much of our humour around Hannah is so black. Because we love her so much and would never do her any harm.
The Queen has spoken. None of this crap frozen milk for her. It must be freshly expressed and stored for less than 3 days in the fridge. We discarded the first lot of thawed milk thinking it may have got contaminated but she rejected a second lot too. Now, what to do with a month's worth of rejected frozen breast milk??? I also have to work on cutting down my over-supply.