Thursday, April 23, 2009

Harper. 5 months old.

Miss Harper, 5 months on. My beautiful little girl. You're such a delight.

This weekend we're celebrating Harper's Naming Day with a High Tea.

Hopefully she'll be awake for the ceremony and not completely covered in vomit.

She had her 4 month needles a week or two ago. Weighed and measured too. Dr asked how she was feeding, I said on Anti Reflux formula yet she still throws up a LOT. He took one look at her and said, "well, obviously that's not a problem for her" in reference to her sizeable cheeks.

7.18kgs - almost exactly half of her 4 year old sister's weight. 64cms long. Utterly adorable.

Still sleeping through the night, a few nights last week after the injections were a bit awful, but I can't complain. Still being wrapped, I am dreading the time when we can no longer wrap, thinking about trying to wean her off it now, but don't like my chances - if it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?

Full of smiles and chuckles, lots of pitching and squealing. Trying to teach her to say Mummmmm with no luck yet. This week, Harp has learnt to put her binkie back in her mouth when she spits it out. Hooray. Now to teach her how to do it in the dark of night.

Most of her beautiful long hair fell out a few months back, leaving the most bizarre bald ring around the back of her head. Still has the remnants of her most awesome faux-hawk in shades of it's former glory, now nothing more than a few pesky long hairs standing up like a cockatoo, high above the new baby fuzz that's grown in and now about 1cm long.

As I write this, Harp is happy swinging away in her, um, swing. We're going through a pack of Heavy duty D batteries a week with the amount of use the swing gets. Best $200 I ever spent. It's the only place she'll have her day sleeps, there or in my arms. I choose the swing.

Love you little Harry-High-Pants.