Ex-Tabula Rasa

Thoughts

• I’m going back to work on Tuesday. Two and a half weeks of parental leave have been lovely, and I’m very sad to have to do it. But my in-laws are visiting for the week, arriving tomorrow, so there should be an easier transition for Mrs Fuiru.
• I’d like to thank 2011 Fuiru for impregnating his wife 9 months before live Olympic TV coverage starts at 4:00 am, making those middle-of-the-night feeds a bit more bearable.
• More information needs to be given to expectant couples about how breastfeeding, while beneficial and amazing and allthatjazz, absolutely sucks ass for the first few weeks. Having doctors and prenatal class nurses convey this vision of sunshine and rainbows and smiling, burping chubby-cheeked children full of the joys of nutrition-rich hindmilk and then watch your wife cry and scream while trying to achieve a good latch on a nipple that looks like it’s been attacked with sandpaper is fucking awful.
• We have a squeaky tile in our kitchen that sounds exactly like Audrey’s “I’m waking up from a blissful synapse-strengthening REM-filled sleep and I’m pissed off about it” cry. It’s so quiet as to be barely audible, almost subliminal. Every single time I step between the stove and the countertop when making dinner I feel the urge to run into the living room and comfort her.
• Audrey is the only person in the entire planet who can sneeze in my face and I’d go ‘awwww, she’s so cute.’ Except perhaps Anne Hathaway.
• My current record for Number of Diapers Used in a Single Changing Session by a Baby Who Won’t Stop Shitting and Pissing in Them as Soon as you put Them on Her is four. I have now learned to wait a few minutes between that squelchy fart noise and taking her to the changing table.
• In her two and a half weeks of life Audrey has acquired approximately six hundred nicknames, including “Ms A,” “Lady Stinkbum,” “Missy ‘Misdemeanour’ Squiglette,” “Ms Eh,” “Dame Poopypants” and “She of the Boob Radar.”