Saturday, October 4, 2008

You say diaper, I say disaster

Now my rational inner "Mom" knows I shouldn't blame US diapers (eng. nappies) for the umpteen babygro/sheet changes I have had to do each night, not to mention midday ensemble changes, but rationality goes out the window after two weeks of coping with a jet-lagged Louis. The middle-of-the-night diaper changes are doing nothing to persuade Louis that nighttime is for sleeping not playing/chatting/practicing rolling over (delete as appropriate).

Getting to grips with diapers (we're on our third brand already) is just part and parcel of working out how to be an American Mom. Louis is already sleeping in a crib with his pacifier on hand (although now he's nearly four months he'd rather use his thumb; pacifiers are for babies). Then, come morning time, he hits the streets in his stroller dressed in his onesie. Elevenses has become brunch at which point he gets nursed. And when he needs a diaper (and inevitably an outfit) change he has to find the restroom. Becoming bilingual may mean he can chat with his American cousins but it's bound to set his talking back months! 

Luckily he's found a new English girlfriend to hang out with. (Sorry May, Yoppy, Freya, Amelie, Ottile and both Charlottes....) Judging by the grins Sophie was giving him at lunch today she's already fallen for his Bermondsey charm. A second date is scheduled for Sunday. 

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