Owen to the barber

Today Owen's locks got the chop. Mom & dad decided it was time. So into his feeding chair he did go and one, two, three...................ten, eleven, twelve snip snip snip. Mom held his ears down and dad bravely took the scissors to his hair. It was going well until Owen clapped eyes on the scissors, which he obviously has never seen before, and decided he had to have them. A bit of a tussle ensued. We went a bit short on the overall look but felt that there was really not enough for a hairdresser to do.



The last few times that Owen & I have been to the gym, and Owen goes to the creche, has been a drama. Friday I just knew that he would cry so I gave him to Marion, the creche lady, along with usual instructions and bolted right up to the cardio section. Normally I cycle to warm up and then run, step and cool down. This time I jumped straight on to the treadmill and ran as fast as I could. 16 minutes later I heard the intercom go on but no message. I just knew it was Owen. A minute later the receptionist, who I know personally now from this whole saga, was at my side telling me Owen was crying. I now have a plan with Marion - to take Owen when she is there and for only short periods at a time in the beginning and then lengthening it. Ok, roll on Monday!



In the meantime Owen still enjoys his milk - whether it comes from the boob or the bottle seems immaterial to him. Mealtimes are still a real joy and he continues to feed himself successfully with his fork. Dad time is very special too. When Owen woke up on Friday morning he was very interested to know who was asleep in the bed next to mommy. A priceless smile melted dad's heart! Brendon spends Saturday mornings with Owen doing domestic duties and cycles with him in the afternoon after Owen's dinner. Still no appearance of the next tooth!