at yesterday’s weighing Hugh was 16lb 2oz / 7.34kg. Again this is with some clothes on, so the real weight may be slightly lower, but it does give us the rate of gain: 21 oz in three weeks. He has slowed down slightly, from 10-11oz per week to 7. This is no bad thing; I was beginning to think that by the time he was potty-trained there’d be no sizes of nappy left and we’d have to buy him adult incontinence pants. Meanwhile I have had to put a little pair of trousers straight into the too-small bag without him ever wearing them. They were officially size 3-6 months and yesterday I tried them on him for the first time, only to find that while they are about the right length they are too tight in the waist to go over his chubby little puku.
In other news, I finally succeeded in giving him a massage and he even appeared to like it, though the attempt to squeeze him into those trousers, immediately following, with consequent re-dressing in a babygro, rather spoilt the good mood. But yesterday was a good day when my baby and I ate at regular intervals (well, he did) and Did Stuff and enjoyed the nice weather. The night was less good. A month ago we had a pretty manageable rhythm going of two brief night feeds at around 2 or 3am and 4 or 5am. Now we seem to get either two enormous elaborate feeds with repeated dozing off at the breast and waking up again when put down, or alternatively three feeds at steadily shorter intervals; in either case he seems to have decided he gets up at six. On Sunday we had the big feed version and last night it was the frequent feeding. I’m not sure which is worse. I gave him a late evening feed in the hope it would get him through to four at least, but he was up again at 2.20. Ugh.