Posts Tagged ‘Parenthood’

…..and I have no problem with that!

I Sleep on a RacetrackOn 1st June just passed, my wife and I, both of Anglo-Saxon stock, adopted Cleo, then only four weeks old. We haven’t until now publicized the fact of the adoption, even to many of our friends and family. She did come to us with a reasonably bad skin condition which, thankfully, after some great medical advice and assistance, cleared up after about five weeks at home with us.

She was so pretty then…and still is – dark face (black actually) with greening eyes and already showing signs of a cheeky disposition. Little did I know what we were in for, even though we had both raised babies in the past (a very long time ago, I might add).

It seems that we are on a whole new learning curve, what with the constant feeding and dealing with what comes after a good feed (phew!). At least we have both been around to share the toilet-related duties.

And don’t they grow so quickly at that age?! Look away for a minute and seems then that Cleo goes through another growth spurt while we aren’t watching.

Mobility. Damn – it’s almost scary at times. I mean, there she is, fast asleep with that typical angelic look of innocence about her but before you know it, she’s disappeared…..again!

Night-time, however, is Cleo’s speciality. Full night’s sleep? Forget it. Sleep-in? What’s that like? It’s as if she has an inbuilt alarm clock that’s been programmed to go off religiously just as you yourself are about to enter the world of dreams plus, in the mornings, I’m pretty certain that she hears the neighbour’s rooster ruffling his feathers as he’s about to announce to the world the coming of dawn’s gathering light and that she has her mind set on waking up herself and yours truly before the rooster has even shaken the sleep out of his eyes!

If she’s having difficulty arousing us, night or day, then she calls in the big guns, her four year-old brother – to seal the deal! Once it gets to that point, believe me – we’re screwed. It’s on for young and old as they race around on the bed. It’s like a short course dash with the top-weight favourites choosing your back as the ideal racing surface, each trying to outdo the other in awakening us. Early age mobility – the curse of all mankind just looking for that one extra minute with the sandman.

It may sound as though I’m complaining. I’m not. Sure, young Cleo is a handful at times but the joy in seeing her grow into the vision of loveliness that she has become makes it all worthwhile (nahhh, I’m not biased or anything!) .

Life is good!

P.S. Here’s a photo of our two totally gorgeous young’uns taken around three weeks ago – Cleo and Her Brother.