Been pre-occupied by the media storm that was Lee Kuan Yew’s death and the national mourning that followed.
Not that we joined the hours long queue to pay our last respects or lined the street in the tropical thunderstorm for the final send-off.
Just stayed at home and followed the news on the internet. Fascinating, really.
But Baby Z is more fascinating. At least to this father.
At around the time LKY passed away, Z was in her “Angry Cat” stage. This was the stage where her grumbling sounded like an Angry Cat. Or a bunch of angry cats in a gunny sack. It went on for a few days and then we had her exorcised and the spirit of the damn cat was expelled.
No. She just stopped doing it by herself after a few days. But if we ever make her life into a movie, we will have to have the exorcism scene. Makes for a better movie.
For temporary relief during the angry cat phase, I would meow at her. This confuses her and stops her angry mewling as she watch her father make a fool of himself. She finds it quite entertaining. (note to self: cut this out of the movie.)
About a week or a few days after she stopped being an angry cat (evil cat spirit exorcised in movie version), she started on her Raspberry stage. That is, she would start blowing bubbles, and spit-spraying (or spray-spitting).
Consulting our panel of experts (other friends recently made parents), one said it happened with her son too, and she thinks it is because he is bored. (We had wondered if Z may be teething.)
Well, that can’t be the case with Z. She is NEVER bored! She has daddy for entertainment! (See above: daddy makes a fool of himself meowing.)
So we called the exorcist back, told her she got rid of the evil cat spirit, but may have let in a spitting cobra spirit in instead. Demanded she fixed the problem for free. She agreed as it was still within the 3 months warranty period.
That is, again, for the movie version. In real life, we tried to wait for her to outgrow this raspberry stage. There was a lot of drool and spit though. And being the impatient one, I tried several ways to distract her. tickling her whenever she spit-spray was one. Not sure if it worked. She did stop when she was tickled, but then she would start again. Perhaps she liked being tickled?
Covering her face (briefly) with a cloth when she spit-sprayed was another one. But she seemed happy with that too. Or maybe ambivalent.
In any case, after a few days, she stopped, whether it was the tickling (unlikely) or the cloth (maybe) or the exorcist expelling the spitting cobra spirit (movie version), we’re not sure.
PL & I realise that lack of certainty is the default state of mind for a parent. We do what we think is best and we do what we think is right, and usually things work out right, and maybe it is because of what we did, but we are not sure.
Often, after we have finally settled Z down, and whoever was the last parent who was holding her when she fell asleep, would look to the other, and say, “I don’t know what I did right.”
Z could be wailing like a banshee one minute and the next she would be asleep, dead to the world. And we DON’T KNOW WHAT WE DID if it were anything we did in the first place.
Now we wait for the next phase.
Not all the “milestones” were nuisances though.
She is able to raise her head for some time while placed on her tummy. We should have done this earlier. She MAY be able to roll soon… or perhaps she is now aware of the option of rolling… not sure that she can as yet.
She is more responsive, smiling when she recognises faces, laughing more readily, being more sociable.
We put her in a seat (with support, including a small pillow stuffed in to wedge her in) and she is able to sit quite steadily. We put her by the dining table when we have dinner, and she would watch mummy intently… like “Why aren’t you feeding me?!”