I am learning the new Mum's diet. I can't manage to finish a cup of tea when it is still warm normally, so cold tea is nothing new, but some of the food restrictions are quite annoying. I don't mean I am avoiding foods that might affect the milk (I can't imagine a flavour that would put Gwen off her food). I mean the physical restrictions of getting food to my mouth without getting it all over Gwen. There are two main types: Breastfeeding foods need to be able to be eaten one handed and have only a moderate risk of slopping. Cake, pizza, some sandwiches work well for this. Sling wearing foods can involve two hands but should be low risk of slopping, or at least can be eaten to one side. I've discovered that burritos fulfil this criteria nicely. Unfortunately noodles, which I love, have high slop potential. I spent a very frustrating hour in wagamamas eating noodles with chopsticks one noodle at a time. And I think I'll have to forego gravy on pies too. Having said all this I'm hardly starving and Gwen has already been to her first Michelin starred restaurant.
We have a hand-me-down pram, which is wonderful. It is a big off-road three-wheeler, which gets over the cattle grids easily*, and along the dirt paths and down stairs well. It is a great mobile bed for Gwen too. If only it would fit in the car. Or on a bus. Or in cafes and shops. Not surprisingly the sling gets a fair bit of use. And it's not just our pram. It has taken us a while to work out where our mothers group can meet - eight mums and bubs with usually at least 4 prams needs either spacious cafes or good weather, neither of which are particularly common in England. And of course a decent baby changing facility is needed. Luckily Oxford has lots of spacious pubs with big gardens on the river, and lots of free museums.
And apparently with all these new things to learn I haven't been keeping up with the news, so by the time I mention a story to Adam he claims it is already two days old news. I've been too busy updating him on critically important news such as the colour of Gwen's poo, how loud her farts have been, and where in the house he might find her rogue bodily fluids. Since poo is one of her main methods of communication it has become an important part of my learning, taking me away from my normal work - understanding the toilet habits of low income urban populations in east africa. Thankfully Gwen's nappies smell a bit better than latrines and open sewers.
Here are some photos of the last few weeks.
* This is useful as there are actually cattle grids between us and town.
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