Biscuit is a chubby, windy, smiley three months now. BB is continuing a long obsession with ‘choo choo trains’ with no sign of any let-up. She views her little brother with interest, mirth and occasional frustration, but seems to have just accepted his sudden presence in her life unquestioningly. I always characterise life with two as a general niceness, peppered with moments of high stress that never last very long.
As much as BB is a really early riser, Biscuit is proving to be a really late riser, so I can still enjoy mornings of gazing in admiration while Dad is up and watching endless youtubes of choo choo trains with the busy one. You can read all the baby books you like, it just goes to show how much these things are a part of their nature, over which we have absolutely no control!
Thanks to biscuit’s triumphant, early and speedy entrance (or exit I suppose), I managed to return to all my piano pupils by September. I even started some new ones the other day, a girl and a boy, thirteen months apart! Blimey, what was that like? I asked their mother. She told me it was full-on at first, but now it’s like a constant play date because they are so close in age, and there’s not that much competition between them because they aren’t the same sex. Hooray then! Although I’m sure BB is going to be a bossy sister, she bosses me and Dad around pretty successfully.
I can’t wait till biscuit is BB’s age. I’m impatient to see his personality emerge, and when they’re running around together it’s going to be so much fun! Also, babies are cute but quite tricky. I mentioned he was windy. He throws up after every feed, gets hiccups constantly and needs burping all the time. I have to make sure I go out wearing an unsullied set of clothes, and remember to remove them when I nip home to feed him because of his predilection for redecorating his immediate surroundings. This was brought home to us when dad was told by SS, ‘you smell weird’. Sadly I didn’t quite manage it the other day. Around the corner from their house I realised with horror that I was going to meet my new pupils with white regurgitated milk all down one shoulder of my red top.