It's all in a name

When we found out the sex of our firstborn we came up with a very short list of two boys names. We picked Henry because it was old fashioned, rarely used, couldn’t be shortened, and we couldn’t think of any nasty nicknames that would come out of it. Since having Henry a little over two years ago, it appears that celebrities are choosing the name which is now making it popular. Supermodel Heidi Klum and singer Seal, Australian actress Deborah Mailman, and now ‘Pretty Woman’ Julia Roberts have since all named their sons Henry.

Hair, there, everywhere

What do we do with Henry’s hair? It’s lovely and blonde, thin and wispy. It curls at the ends and he has a couple of ringlets at the back. We love that he looks like a free-spirited child or a bit like a surfer. We get lots of comments about his hair. Friends and strangers all say how much they love it. The only negative opinions come from my parents. When my dad visits he always leaves telling Henry (jokingly) when he next sees him maybe he’ll have had his haircut; and whenever my mum visits she always makes several disapproving remarks about the length of his hair and the need to get it cut. Of course this just makes us more determined not to cut his hair. We love his hair as it is and he isn’t fussed about cutting it either. In fact we know there is no way he would find getting his hair cut an enjoyable experience or sit still for one. I’ll even admit I don’t want him to lose his curls or his blonde ends. I’ve been told by a few friends and other mums in the playground there is a kid’s store that has a hairdresser just for kid’s haircuts, but I’ve noticed all these kids have the same haircut. We fancy something different. So for now it remains as it is. The plan is to bring Henry to my hairdresser at the end of my next appointment and he can see me get my haircut and hopefully he won’t feel too threatened by a pair of scissors near his face and he’ll get some of his hair trimmed.

As for Milly, the great news is the hair she lost is growing back quite quickly, so we can finally say goodbye to her being mistaken for a monk. Milly also had her 8-week check up at the Early Childhood Centre last week. She now weighs 5.3kg, and is 58cm long. All the things she is meant to be doing developmentally she is doing and no one has any issues other than me who is still grieving for chocolate and isn’t enjoying the smell of baby’s vomit.

He and Me

Karma. I was just boasting to a pregnant friend the other day about how little washing I did when Henry was a newborn because he wasn’t a baby that vomited and pooed all the time, therefore requiring many changes of clothes for himself and me. Milly is not such a baby. Karma. She likes a vomit or two and sometimes her poo’s are so explosive they burst out the top of her nappy and can be found smeared up her back and over her torso. Not bad. Karma I say.

Milly is also a noisy little thing. She grunts, snorts and squeaks while awake and asleep. She likes to snuggle, loves being bounced on the fit ball or rocked in her rocker, and instantly falls asleep when we go out for walks or a drive in the car. She has also started smiling at us.


Henry still has a big sleep in the middle of the day and I haven’t quite got them synchronised yet so I can get a rest as well. However, their daily routines are such that one sleeps while the other is awake, so they both get one-on-one time with me – that is until around 4.30pm when they are both awake and wanting attention and I’m knackered and just trying to get through the remainder of the day until Michael comes home. But I feel like I’m getting enough sleep at night.

Henry is slowing starting to show an interest in Milly. He can’t quite say her name properly, it comes out as “Me”, which is funny because he can’t say his own name properly so refers to himself as “He”.

In other news, both Henry and Michael have been recovering from colds and me from mastitis.