The Invisible Baby By Kate

I've mentioned before that one of the really endearing things about Spain and the people who live here is how ready they are to lavish admiration on children. Babies especially get a lot of attention and Rosie, with her intensely blue eyes and tied-to-Mummy-or-Daddy mode of transport, is already a big favourite in our barrio. All the staff in the local supermarket and at least one of the neighbourhood cafes know her by name. Shopkeepers wave at her through their windows as we pass by. People continually stop me and ask after her or do the Spanish version of "coochie coochie coo" to her directly. I continually hear people saying "Que cosita!" ("What a tiny thing!") to each other when they catch sight of her.

To be honest, it's like being out and about with a diminutive celebrity. Rosie, of course, accepts all this adoration with equanimity - most of the time she doesn't even deign to so much as notice her many fans. A more persistent admirer might be rewarded with a smile, but mostly Rosie retains her air of blissful ignorance at the sensation she causes as she and I walk down the street.

As a Stay At Home Mum, this attention, although occasionally a little disconcerting (well, I am British, after all) is mostly very welcome, as days could otherwise pass without me exchanging words with anyone apart from Theo (or coos and gurgles with Rosie). Humans are naturally social animals and anyway, it's always good to have an opportunity to try out my bad Spanish.

So when we were back in the UK last weekend for Theo's sister's wedding, the change couldn't be more pronounced. Oh yes, the state visits to Mrs Berry's Nursery and the HRH wedding caused a definite stir among the friends and relatives assembled, to be sure. No, it was the stroll around Cirencester where the difference between Brits and Hispanics was most conspicuous.

It took me a moment or two to work out why it felt so strange walking down Cirencester's main street compared with our barrio in Madrid (it was even hot and sunny that day). Then I realised. It was as if the purple-wrapped bump tied to my chest with the little curious face sticking out simply didn't exist. It wasn't that people glanced at her then glanced away without comment. They just didn't see her at all.
I was starting to wonder if I was imagining Rosie's presence myself - of perhaps we had inadvertently crossed over into a parallel dimension. But no, eventually a mother of a toddler did say: "Look at the baby." I smiled at her in relief. My maternal vanity doesn't require copious amounts of adoration for Rosie, but I thought the motto in England was "Children Are Seen And Not Heard" - but Rosie might have been invisible, for all the passers-by noticed. I bet if I'd had a dog on a lead we would have invited more attention. Rosie, on the other hand, didn't seem overly bothered - although she got a bit fussy towards the end of the walk. I wonder if she's as impervious to all the adoration as she makes out.

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.

How To Make Friends In Madrid By Kate

It's easy - just wear a baby.
Spaniards are generally baby fans anyway, but combine that with a novel mode of infant transport (a wrap sling, in this case) and you've got a winning way with every passing stranger. It doesn't just work on Spaniards too - the Chinese shopkeepers were similarly captivated by the sight of Rosie nestling in the lilac sling as I enjoyed a stroll along Calle Jose del Hierro and a little light shopping.
Today the weather relented long enough for my vague plan to actually put some proper clothes on and get out of the flat for half an hour, to harden into resolve. So Rosie was duly wrapped up in her too-big clothes, topped off with a perfectly-fitting hat (thanks Anne - she bought us an outfit suitable for a premature baby - the only items of clothing that don't comically hang off little Rosie's minute frame at the moment), swaddled her in a fleece blanket and popped her in the sling.

We drew curious stares from passers by as soon as we hit the street. A young girl we encountered in the pharmacy was fascinated and almost dragged her mother up the street to get a better look at this curious little bundle tied to my chest.
The Chinese woman in the gift shop cried out in delight as soon as we walked in and admired the sleeping Rosie with gratifying enthusiasm. Next, she had pointed us out to another customer, a dad with his little boy - the latter utterly fascinated, as the little girl had been. They came over to chat and gaze at Rosie, who continued to snooze peacefully, unperturbed by all the commotion.
Next, Rosie and I were stopped at the pelican crossing by an elderly man's curiosity about the lilac-clad bundle sticking out of my duffle coat. Before I had even said a word he asked me where I came from - baby-wearing marking me out immediately as a foreigner. I told him England and he nodded approvingly.
"Good country", he said. I wondered what countries wouldn't have got his seal of approval.
The next place where Rosie became the centre of attention was the supermarket checkout. The two female customers ahead of me visibly melted when they caught sight of her snuggled against me, as did the checkout lady. While they cooed over her ("Que bonita!"), Rosie slept on, completely oblivious.
As a first solo outing with my daughter, it was pretty successful. So much so, I'm now planning a more ambitious project. To take her across town on the metro to visit a friend. In the purple sling, of course.