Tim has his father’s long strong toes, powerful hands and thunderous brow
You can see parts of me in his little face
Dark Chinesey eyes
A commanding nose (which comes from my mom’s Angolan family)
Plump lips
While his jaw is delicate and pointy
When you put his little face together
He looks a bit like my brother Andre
Except for that Joker’s grin
Which is pure Doherty
Does this mean he’s got the Doherty sense of humor?
We’re also hoping he gets the great Doherty cheekbones
Zooming out, he has sallow skin
And dark hair
Even on his little ears
So Portuguese
Bless the young Wolverine!
Showing posts with label Tim Doherty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tim Doherty. Show all posts
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
Boobytrap
By zombimom.com
3 Oct 2008
Breastfeeding is not for sissies
We have beautiful breastfeeding moments
Little jaw relaxed and rhythmical, little tongue lapping
And we have horrible breastfeeding moments
When desperate little mouths thrash in frustration
Especially in the early days
And when breastfeeding turns dark you’ll do anything to make it better
That’s how I ended up with one giant breast and one little breast
In the beginning when latching was a hit and miss affair
We found it easier going on the left side
So instead of alternating, like the experts say, we kept gravitating back to the left
The result was 10 days later I sported a watermelon on one side and an orange on the other
A happy-latching and disciplined alternating week later
And I’m relieved to report I'm back to two mangos
(though one mango is still a bit bigger)
3 Oct 2008
Breastfeeding is not for sissies
We have beautiful breastfeeding moments
Little jaw relaxed and rhythmical, little tongue lapping
And we have horrible breastfeeding moments
When desperate little mouths thrash in frustration
Especially in the early days
And when breastfeeding turns dark you’ll do anything to make it better
That’s how I ended up with one giant breast and one little breast
In the beginning when latching was a hit and miss affair
We found it easier going on the left side
So instead of alternating, like the experts say, we kept gravitating back to the left
The result was 10 days later I sported a watermelon on one side and an orange on the other
A happy-latching and disciplined alternating week later
And I’m relieved to report I'm back to two mangos
(though one mango is still a bit bigger)
Tim's first venture into the world on his own
By babymom.com
29 Sept 2008
Tim is 2 weeks old today and we weighed him at the clinic. He came in a healthy 3.6kg, with nappy and babygrow, which we didn’t have the heart to take off in the clinical clinic. He came into the world at 3.2kg, so I reckon he’s doing well.
Today was also his first venture into the world on his own. He drove strapped in a car chair to the clinic. Last time we drove I held him in my arms, so he was still inside his little cocoon. He became frightened when we strapped him into the chair and quickly hunkered down, shut his eyes tight and went to sleep, where he whimpered and squealed pitifully in his dreams. He’ll probably need a lot of TLC tonight.
29 Sept 2008
Tim is 2 weeks old today and we weighed him at the clinic. He came in a healthy 3.6kg, with nappy and babygrow, which we didn’t have the heart to take off in the clinical clinic. He came into the world at 3.2kg, so I reckon he’s doing well.
Today was also his first venture into the world on his own. He drove strapped in a car chair to the clinic. Last time we drove I held him in my arms, so he was still inside his little cocoon. He became frightened when we strapped him into the chair and quickly hunkered down, shut his eyes tight and went to sleep, where he whimpered and squealed pitifully in his dreams. He’ll probably need a lot of TLC tonight.
My first watch
by zombimom.com
29 Sept 2008
I remember getting my first watch. It was a slim ladies digital in burgundy leather. I looked at the time every five minutes, no matter how hard I tried not to.
The first days with Tim were exactly the same – I couldn’t help looking in on him every few minutes. At night he slept against my breast. Two weeks later and I still like to be by his side, but I no longer need to check on him every five minutes. Sjoe.
29 Sept 2008
I remember getting my first watch. It was a slim ladies digital in burgundy leather. I looked at the time every five minutes, no matter how hard I tried not to.
The first days with Tim were exactly the same – I couldn’t help looking in on him every few minutes. At night he slept against my breast. Two weeks later and I still like to be by his side, but I no longer need to check on him every five minutes. Sjoe.
These are a few of my favourite things
photo by Christobabymom.com
28 Sept 2008
He makes this wicked little chortle in his dreams
His smile is all sunshine lips, ears and eyes leap open
He is rosy and golden
Ntombi calls him pinkie
His legs are tiny chicken legs, his feet so strong
His one ear is slightly crumpled
He has a darling, expressive face
Thunderous frowns
Delicate lip smacking
Arches his brows in a comical French way
And wonks his eyes crossways
Inscrutable bright-eyed Buddha
The way he wakes up, raising one lazy tortoise eye at a time
His little body easing into warm water, cradled by Christo
He smells like a hot loaf of bread in the middle of the night
My little bun is fresh out of the oven
28 Sept 2008
He makes this wicked little chortle in his dreams
His smile is all sunshine lips, ears and eyes leap open
He is rosy and golden
Ntombi calls him pinkie
His legs are tiny chicken legs, his feet so strong
His one ear is slightly crumpled
He has a darling, expressive face
Thunderous frowns
Delicate lip smacking
Arches his brows in a comical French way
And wonks his eyes crossways
Inscrutable bright-eyed Buddha
The way he wakes up, raising one lazy tortoise eye at a time
His little body easing into warm water, cradled by Christo
He smells like a hot loaf of bread in the middle of the night
My little bun is fresh out of the oven
1 week old
by babymom.com
22 Sept 2008
Countdown
The week before Tim’s birth I was unnaturally calm, my anxiety betrayed only by the odd sobbing spell that broke suddenly like a Highveld thunderstorm.
Day 1: Joy
At the hospital I felt nauseous with anxiety, and like a child I closed my eyes to ward off the world. Christo stroked my hair. A soft-spoken Russian anesthetist gently injected my spine. My legs disappeared. Something pushed down on me and with a great guttural wail, Tim burst bloody and waxy into the world. He was unbelievably beautiful and I exploded with joy and tears.
Our first day was heavenly. Timmy slept in my arms all day, bathed in golden light and pethedrine, holding each other tight.
Day 2: Terror
At 4am a rough nurse tossed me out of bed. Hot pain. Then she abandoned me to take an inexpert bath alone, wincing and whimpering.
Tim wouldn’t wake up. Nurse said not to worry, newborns do that. 12 hours later blind panic struck. He was hot and lethargic. I stripped him down and dabbed him with wet cotton wool. A few hours later he choked on vomit because I hadn’t burped him properly. By the end of the day I was tearful. I spent the night fighting off terror. He was so little.
Day 3: Delusions of Mastery
Next day I woke Tim up every four hours and fed him. After a rough start, we were getting the hang of breastfeeding (deceptively tricky to begin with). A few successful feeds and nappy changes later and I was feeling masterful … only to be undone a few hours later by a bout of angry hiccups and a fretful feeding session lasting 4 hours. I finally worked out it wasn’t food he wanted and cuddled him in bed.
One week later …
Yesterday we had a wonderful day. He was so peaceful and easy going – sleeping, feeding, pooing, peeing and chilling bright-eyed with us. But just the day before I woke up feeling like someone had smashed my arms with a hammer. I don’t know what I’d do without Christo. He calms Tim and I down when we’re exhausted and stuck.
Today Timothy Zé Doherty turns 1 week old. We’re getting a little orange-cherry cake from the bakery and a candle to celebrate. He is as cute as a button.
22 Sept 2008
Countdown
The week before Tim’s birth I was unnaturally calm, my anxiety betrayed only by the odd sobbing spell that broke suddenly like a Highveld thunderstorm.
Day 1: Joy
At the hospital I felt nauseous with anxiety, and like a child I closed my eyes to ward off the world. Christo stroked my hair. A soft-spoken Russian anesthetist gently injected my spine. My legs disappeared. Something pushed down on me and with a great guttural wail, Tim burst bloody and waxy into the world. He was unbelievably beautiful and I exploded with joy and tears.
Our first day was heavenly. Timmy slept in my arms all day, bathed in golden light and pethedrine, holding each other tight.
Day 2: Terror
At 4am a rough nurse tossed me out of bed. Hot pain. Then she abandoned me to take an inexpert bath alone, wincing and whimpering.
Tim wouldn’t wake up. Nurse said not to worry, newborns do that. 12 hours later blind panic struck. He was hot and lethargic. I stripped him down and dabbed him with wet cotton wool. A few hours later he choked on vomit because I hadn’t burped him properly. By the end of the day I was tearful. I spent the night fighting off terror. He was so little.
Day 3: Delusions of Mastery
Next day I woke Tim up every four hours and fed him. After a rough start, we were getting the hang of breastfeeding (deceptively tricky to begin with). A few successful feeds and nappy changes later and I was feeling masterful … only to be undone a few hours later by a bout of angry hiccups and a fretful feeding session lasting 4 hours. I finally worked out it wasn’t food he wanted and cuddled him in bed.
One week later …
Yesterday we had a wonderful day. He was so peaceful and easy going – sleeping, feeding, pooing, peeing and chilling bright-eyed with us. But just the day before I woke up feeling like someone had smashed my arms with a hammer. I don’t know what I’d do without Christo. He calms Tim and I down when we’re exhausted and stuck.
Today Timothy Zé Doherty turns 1 week old. We’re getting a little orange-cherry cake from the bakery and a candle to celebrate. He is as cute as a button.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)