First day at school... well kind of

Today Isobel went for her first visit to nursery.

As you can imagine with any first day at school, there was much dragging of feet; much sulking and much posturing on how unfair life is. Yes, I can be a child.

As I walked, dragging my feet, I imagined writing this post and that it would end with me saying how lovely it all was, how much Isobel loved it and that it was not as bad as I imagined. But that wasn't quite how it played out.

There were many children crying, but that was okay, it was explained by the babies having their settling-in visit to the more grown up part of nursery. I felt reassured.

I was there to fill in forms, which I did in the baby room accompanied by Isobel's key carer - another Saffir - would you believe it. She seemed nice enough, I tried not to stare at the angry patch of excema that was visible under her polo shirt.

The trouble is Isobel likes to play, she likes to have toys that do things, she likes to watch the world. So, plonking her in a bumbo seat facing away from everyone with a boring ball on her lap was bound to bore her. Lying her on her front where she can't see anyone with equally dull toys was also unlikely to stimulate her. Isobel likes to play, but needs some props at the very least.

And it was hot in there, yesterday was a hotter day than today so I dread to think how unbearable yesterday would have been.

There isn't room for our pushchair*... children were running around in just nappies...

Oh, I know I'm looking for excuses. Truth be told, I think Isobel is just a little bit too little for nursery right now.


*One thing I have discovered that is extremely challenging for a single parent is turning a pram into a pushchair, there are things that are definitely easier with two. That said, I've kind of done it; it was a struggle but worth it.

Material Girl

No Isobel isn't a Madonna in the making - well not that I know of - but she does have a certain amount of love for various 'things':

Her love for her mobile has not abated.

The love for the flowers in her pram has, along with her field of vision, grown to include those on the hood...

I think this minky-monkey-moo may be next on the hit parade

(It's actually quite cool, Isobel is beginning to reach out to grab things - I'll get back to you in a month and tell you if I still think this is cool.)

Growing...

Isobel is now 10 weeks old and changing and growing by the minute.

She is growing used to the lovely sunshine and the heat (yes I said heat, it's over 26 degrees today)

Out-growing not only her clothes, but also her bath

And soon her beloved pram

Most of all she is growing into a beautiful happy little girl who smiles A LOT and shouts a little. She is becoming a proper little person, a proper little Isobel.

And everyday my love for her grows, so much so I sometimes think my heart will burst. x

Far Out Hippie Chick

One of Isobel's favourite spots is her pram. It's just as well as this where she has most of her daytime naps and obviously is her main form of transportation.

She is as happy in it awake as asleep...


... we think it is the effect of the flowers, man.

Perambulation

The day after we discovered that we were soon-to-be parents of a daughter we went and purchased a suitable carriage, we bought her a pram. This must be the single most expensive purchase that will be made by a soon-to-be-parent.

I know many Dads pour over technical specifications as if they were buying a car; we didn’t really do that. We had two criteria: it has to fold up small enough to go in my mini (which I refuse to swap for an estate car anytime this millennium), and have a proper carry cot i.e. be a pram not just a buggy. I’m an old fashioned girl who wants to see her baby slumbering peacefully in her pram in the fresh air while I am, obviously, a serene together lady-who-lunches (look a girl can dream).

Armed with this criteria I felt my choices had been limited to the over-subscribed- celebrity/Richmond-accessory the Bugaboo and the Quinny. The Bugaboo, as much as I hate to admit it, is a great pram hence it’s popularity, yes it’s expensive but it is good. The Quinny seems to be gaining in popularity with it’s nifty hydraulic self-rising thingamajig, but is heavier than the Bugaboo, although slightly cheaper and much simpler to operate. Okay, so it was these two choices that I introduced to RD while sitting outside a pub by the river; it was a sunny bank holiday and every configuration of these two prams went by. RD managed, between pints, to feign some level of interest. I briefly flirted with a much cheaper, third option a Nippabout which is sold in one of the only independent nursery shops near me, Happicraft (to be honest I nearly bought it simply because of the shop’s independent status). All these fitted in the boot my mini.

Considering his distinct lack of interest, imagine my, and his, surprise when RD came home from town one day and announced that he had seen a good looking pram in the window of Mamas and Papas. I felt it my duty to investigate an option that had actually grabbed his attention. So a couple of Saturdays ago, we braved Regents Street on a Saturday and went to look at said pram – the Ziko. It’s cool, it’s green, it’s light, has a tight turning circle (a must in Victorian terraced house) and it’s a pram. Best of all, Mamas and Papas do a car seat in which the baby can lie down when it’s not in the car, i.e. when it’s on the pushchair or free standing. This is a big plus for someone whose journey home to visit her grandma would take longer than the 2 hours recommended for sitting in a car seat (it crushes their diaphragm apparently).

So we bought it, we bought it all, but because of superstition all we have to show for our investment is a receipt! (It’s believed that to have the pram in the house before the baby is bad luck.

RD has since made another, unaccompanied, baby purchase: we have a cool Baba Bing! nappy bag, chosen because it has labels on the pockets so he knows what to put in them.