The Madrileno Baby Massage Choral Society By Kate

Massage is supposed to be relaxing, restorative, healing and at times, positively invigorating. In general, a pleasant and uplifting experience.

Perhaps someone should have told the fourteen or so babies in a room in Cuidad Lineal that. Gentle music was playing in the background while assorted parents armed with J&J baby oil earnestly followed the instructions from Maite the Matrona on how to give their offspring an enjoyable, sensuous experience and aid their sleep, digestion and co-ordination.Only a few minutes of the session had passed when the first baby decided they had had enough and began to vocalise their displeasure. Then the next chimed in, then the next. Pretty soon, all but three of the infants were red faced and crying in perfect disharmony - Rosie, I'm pleased to say, was still calm at this stage. Gradually the clamour began to die down as various mothers applied a breast, bottle or pacifier to their babies' howling mouths. Calm was restored and after some time, the various parents tentatively put down their little ones and started again with the J&J.
For a short while, all was tranquil again. Then Maite instructed us to turn our babies onto their tummies to start on some back massage. That was too much for most of the tiny participants and the crying chorus began to reach a new crescendo, this time with Rosie adding her own distinct sound to the dischord. Breasts (including mine), bottles and dummies were once more brought into play and we had a new diminuendo. We tried a little more massage with Rosie, but it was clear her tolerance for being rubbed with oil, however gently, had reached its limit. We took her home.

But two weeks later, we went back for more. This time Rosie, after a little initial protesting as she got used to the situation, seemed more willing to submit to the massaging. This also seemed true of most of the others, as the infant crying chorus was a little more muted than on our previous visit and mainly featured a few soloists rather than the great mass of baby wailing. And even with a bit of annoyance on Rosie's part, she noticeably sleeps well after a baby massage session. Whether this is because she's worn out with all the howling or because the massage eased her body tension is a moot point.

Mother's Little Helper By Kate

My name is Kate and I'm a chocoholic.

That's nothing new, I've always been partial to a slab of blended cocoa butter and solids (70% minimum for choice, but any port in a storm...) Now, it's becoming a more serious dependency. After dealing with a fractious child, chocolate becomes an absolute necessity and I even shock myself with how voraciously I can wolf it down.

Not that Rosie is an especially fractious baby - well, no more than the average, anyway. But she certainly has her moments and it can be a frazzling experience trying to work out what's wrong (if indeed there is anything properly wrong) and put it right, or at least soothe her to some degree. If it's not hunger that's producing the angst, the next most common candidate is tiredness. Over-tiredness is the worst because the obvious solution is for Rosie to get some shut-eye, but it's the last thing she's willing to do in that situation and it can take some serious persuasion on our part before she'll calm down enough to go to sleep.

Fortunately, this is not a situation that's arisen too often and generally we can feed/rock/dummy Rosie into submission without an indecent amount of time having elapsed. But it's getting tougher. Tonight we were up to two and a half hours from me first trying to get Rosie off to sleep and her finally making it into Nod Land. Thankfully, only a small proportion of that time was spent crying (her, not me - although it's tempting sometimes) - the rest was feeding or fussing. But oh, the blessed sight of a baby in peaceful repose and the sacred silence! At that point, I go and grab the chocolate. Everybody needs their drug and right now, what with the lactation and all, this is mine.

Yummy Mummy - by Theo

A lovely, warm, sunny Sunday and we decided to venture out into town, Kate looking chic in her complimentary colors and accessories - babies are the latest thing!

There was an Oxfam event outside the Reina Sofia which I thought might have been a good warm-up for Rosie's WOMAD experience, but sadly we got there during a lengthy hiatus between musical acts and the stalls were a bit dull. So we decided to pop into the nearby Caixa Forum to look round the latest exhibits. Rosie seemed particularly taken by some mesmerisingly colourful work by contemporary Turkish artists, and she was quite a hit with the people in the gallery including one moustachioed attendant who was soon showing us photos of his grandchild and cooing at the colour of her eyes while Rosie stared back equally fascinated.

spanish blog

Por cierto, es un decision un poco raro - escribir un blog en espanol cuando la mayoria de la gente que leer este blog son ingleses. No obstante, recientemente no he progresado mucho en espanol. Es facile a entender por que - Rosie! En 2009 fuimos a clases de espanol casi cada dia, pero jamas en 2010. Por lo tanto quiero escribir algunos blogs en espanol para practicar y, espero, desarrollara mi espanol. Claro que habra muchas faltas, pero si es mejor que mi primero blog en espanol voy a ser contento! Bueno, pero por que empezo ahora?

Cuando mis padres visitaron hablabamos sobre mis aficiones que tenia en mi juventud. No tenia niguno por mucho tiempo. Esta toma de consciencia me llevo a un otro; que sin rutina no tengo la disciplina personal necessaria para mantener un interes. He ya sentido que estaba vago y perdia el tiempo - fuera de mi trabajo no tengo actividades regulares. Entonces hice una resolucion - yo voy a empezar una rutina semanal de dos horas de espanol, una hora de tocar la guitarra y salir a correr cuatro veces.

Despues dos semanas la ultima ha estado lo mas facil. He comprado nuevos zapatos y corro los 3.5 kilometros desde mi trabajo hasta mi casa lunes a jueves. Es mas rapido que el autobus, pero creo que esto es mas una critica al autobus que un cumplido para mi. Hay una ruta variado, con calles grandes y pequenas, una parque y la Plaza del Toros. En mi opinion es un grande pena que un edificio tan guapo podria ser para un espectaculo tan cruel.

Por otro lado, buscando tiempo para tocar la guitarra o aprender espanol es mucho mas dificil. Entonces, este blog... por favor, si mi equivoco, corrigeme!

The First Twelve Weeks... By Kate

Twelve weeks just shot by in a blur, where did they go? Rosie, it appears, swallows time along with her milk - in copious quantities.They do say that after three months, things start to get easier - or at least, the frazzled new parents start to feel their way out of the early fog of baby-centred bewilderment. The scrunched up little red-faced newborn is filling out and - all being well - smiling, cooing and gurgling in a most beguiling way. Rosie is certainly doing all that. But she's also starting to assert her personality too.

Where once I could instantly calm any fussing or crying with the simple application of breast (mine, preferably) into mouth (hers, generally), that's no longer the failsafe option. Which fills me with no little dread at the prospect of taking her on a plane to the UK next month (okay, as a phobic when it comes to flying, I'm already dreading it anyway). I've resolved to make sure we sit beside someone Spanish rather than someone British - they are usually much more tolerant about infants. But two hours of solid crying would test anyone's endurance and now her early newborn muted-digital-mashup-which-passed-for-crying has evolved into the kind of lusty yelling that proves her lungs and voicebox are both in excellent working order - well, it's not just the person sitting next to us I'm concerned about.

Anyway, back to the positive stuff. A vague bedtime/overnight routine has emerged, meaning she generally sleeps from around 1930 until 0930 with approximately four wake-ups for feeds in between (variation can still be within an hour and a half or so). Even better, Rosie's early sleep-decimating wind eruptions have now subsided, meaning both she and I get a better dose of shut-eye between hunger pangs.In other news, her feeding continues to improve, although it's a frustratingly two-steps-forward-one-step-back process, with all the fun of cracked nipples to prove it (lanolin cream, thou art my saviour) - with any luck, she'll get the hang of it by the time we start to wean her onto solids.

Nappies - well, I won't go into great detail about their contents, but let's just say where we used to have something deposited from her lower intestine at every change, we now go from one extreme to the other. Along with that is the fun of the dambuster (a major pee-leak - usually happens overnight for Mummy's extra entertainment during the 0300 nappy - and everything else - change) or the poosplosion. Vomageddon, on the other hand, has become a pleasingly rare ocurrence since a few veritable eruptions in the early weeks. Oh, the happy days of being showered by your offspring's bodily excretions - it gives parenting that truly authentic (for want of a better word) feeling.

The best stuff, though, is Rosie's alertness. She has truly entered the age of distraction and wants to look at everything. Watching her gazing around in wonder at the amazing visual qualities of our flat is a continual delight. Best of all are the face-splitting gummy smiles she bestows on us when we greet her in the morning or change her nappy. Now, that's what really makes parenting feel special.

vote Lib Dem get Cons/Lab for the next 5 years. DON'T vote Lib Dem, get them for the next 50

"A vote for the Lib Dems is a vote for Labour" say the Tories; "A vote for the Lib Dems will let in the Tories" say Labour. It's a ridiculous tautology, a preposterous truism based on the premise that those who wish to be rid of Labour/stop the Tories don't care about who gets in/stays in instead.

This is plainly wrong. There must be millions of Britons, fed up with Labour who don't want a Conservative Government. 23% voted for the Lib Dems in 2005, not to mention those who voted for the Greens, Respect, Plaid Cymr, the SNP and two other parties who will not be named. Yet, Labour and the Conservatives are still attempting to say that an alternative vote is a wasted vote and will only let in the other side. As if there was no such thing as voting your conscience.

I read on The Economist recently that he Liberal Democrats have 1 MP for every 97,000 votes received; Labour has one for 27,000 votes, the Conservatives 1 for ever 48,000. This is plainly unfair, and disenfranchises thousands of voters. Yet it is only with a hung Parliament (or dare we hope a Lib Dem-minority party coalition) that we will get election reform to address this imbalance. Labour have had 13 years to do it, but they won't.

The Lib Dems have never had a better opportunity to gain a foothold in government and force electoral reform. Even if you don't support their policies - and I confess that I do - then surely the idea of a future third option in future elections is reason enough to vote for them now. If not now then never. If you don't vote Liberal Democrat now, say 'hello' to another 50 years of Labour and the Conservatives passing the baton.

Noche de Misterio

Last night, the 11-strong international criminal gang behind the Ocean Initiatives robbery gathered at the flat of Scarlett "Thrice" Nightly in downtown Madrid to split their haul. Don Paulo "The Step-Father" Testoronio, the mob master mind behind the heist, had arrived with the cash and stashed it somewhere. Unfortunately for him he was as detested as he was feared by the motely collection of criminals, gangsters and lushes he had assembled; he wasn't likely to last the night. Unfortunately for them the poison somebody slipped him kicked in before he'd dolled out the cash.
Cue a frantic search of the flat following cryptic clues to find the stash and select a scapegoat to hang out to dry for the death of the Testoronio family patriarch. There was no honour among thieves, and as the initial chaos subsided there was a rash of blackmail, speculation, accusations and challenges among those gathered (including such underhand tactics as stealing the clues - not in the script!) No stone - or picture - was left unturned.
Eventually Constancia "Cracker" Colinas, the spurned former Miss Murcia, found where Don Paulo had hidden the cold hard cash. Relief flooded the room. All that remained was to unmask the killer. Suspicious to the end, the gang-members finally pooled their knowledge. Chiara "60 Segundos" Di Namite, the glamorous Italian explosives expert, was the first to grasp the shocking implications of their revelations.It was Babyface!! The pint sized kitten burglar, obsessed with Scarlett, had clearly decided that with Don Paulo out the way there would be less competition for the nightclub singer's affections. Milk, not money, had been the motivation all along.

a brief discourse on the art of baby-calming - by Theo

There's no predicting our daughter. Sometimes she sleeps wonderfully, anywhere, for hours at the time. On other occasions none of the things Kate has picked up on the internet or at the local right on baby shop - bouncing chairs, molded mattresses, peke-moe sleeping bags, pacifiers, muslins - do the trick. Not even our lullaby playlist (lots of Joe Volk plus others) always works, though at least it gives us something to listen to while patting and shushing her - another not-always-successful tactic. Sometimes Rosie just wants to be rocked.On the knees is good - witness my Dad doing it like an old pro (well, I suppose he is!). Or in the sling, or just held to your chest and rocked. Or in the pram - we're wearing lines in the floor from running the wheels back and forth. However we manage it, some serious contortions are required to maintain a calm and dozy Rosie on the one hand, and to satisfy our own needs on the other. We've both become quite adept at one-handed eating.
However this morning I was faced with a different conundrum. Rosie had been very wakeful over-night, so Kate had had hardly any sleep, so after the 7.30 nappy change I decided to get up, and take her in the other room so hopefully Kate could get some more sleep. The mattress didn't work, nor the bouncy chair, nor daddy's shoulder - pram time. After 30 minutes, during which I managed to eat a couple of spoonfuls of soggy cereal, Rosie was nearly off to sleep. Nearly. Not quite. It was a crucial stage. A pause in the rocking would have led to a wide-awake and possibly very annoyed baby girl. Unfortunately it was at this stage that my bowels started making extremely urgent demands of me. Hmmm. What to do? I couldn't leave her - she might yell and disturb Kate, thus rendering the last 30 mins of rocking redundant. Taking her in the bathroom would be tricky but possible - but the bright light might also wake her.
Given the delicate nature of some of our readers, I'll spare you the full details of my candle-lit toilet visit. Suffice to say I doubt it will be the last time I feel like a contortionist while trying to keep Rosie asleep.

The First Smiles by Kate

At nine weeks (five weeks corrected for prematurity) our daughter is getting the hang of smiling. Real smiling. And interestingly, the time when she does it most is during an activity she previously hated more than anything: nappy changing. Where she used to scream the place down, all squashy-faced tomato-red fury, she now giggles and gurgles in a quite charming fashion. It may be something to do with the fact that she gets a wind-relieving massage at each change and lots of one-to-one attention with Mummy or Daddy or maybe she's just developed an enjoyment of cleanliness (unlikely), but who cares? Where nappy changes used to be nerve-shredding screamfests, they're now moments of mutual delight. Only drawback is there's still a pooey nappy to be rinsed out at the end of it. Hey, it's a small price to pay.