Finn still hasn’t adjusted to the Irish time zone and has reverted to waking twice a night.
I made a severe tactical error the second day of our trip, when he fell asleep on top of me and I thought I might as well grab a nap too. Five hours later, we woke at 9pm 😦
Ever since, Finn has burst into life every morning at 05:30hrs full of the fucking joys of fucking spring, mad for chats and administering savage head-butts. I put him into the bed beside me and can generally doze while he punches me in the face and chortles.
My parents love having the little guy here. I bring him down to their bedroom every morning for cuddles while I take a shower, and his proud granddad takes him on his morning walk to get the paper. Mum adores him, but can only take short bursts of Finn karate-kicking her in the stomach.
I swear he’s grown again and I’m pretty sure he has teeth coming through although he doesn’t complain.
He’s met a lot of people over the last few days and has generally coped well with the intense socialising, but he’s been quite clingy. While I love the power snuggles with my independent little man, I still fret about him. I think he’s simply had a lot to adjust to.
He’s discovered his feet and loves playing with his toes, which makes putting on his nappy a challenge. He finally managed to roll onto his front the other day; at least, I put him on his mat on his back and came back to find him lying face-down in the fire grate with his oblivious grandfather reading the paper beside him.
The first night home I decided to give Finn a wash. He was cranky by the time I laid him on a towel on the floor of the bathroom; unfortunately, when I turned on the shower, water sprayed out the top of the shower head all over the bathroom. I suppose it probably didn’t help that his mother let out a yelp like a whelping elk; Finn’s eyes popped, he took a giant breath and ROARED. All I could do was giggle uncontrollably at the poor child – he was pretty good-natured about it.