Great Expectations

It is with great pleasure and relief that we announce the long awaited arrival of Chicken No. 2. She arrived on a Saturday night, exactly on her forecasted birth date, and I'm still trying to remember what it was they said about Saturday's child.

One thing we do know - she has got mad screaming skillz. I feel like we have a new pet in the house. A new angry red screaming pet. I can hear the neighbours shutting their windows whenever she starts up. I'm surprised we haven't heard from them yet.

This one was fed a very very Omega-3 rich diet, whereas for Chicken No. 1, I had no clue about Omega-3 so he had none. We are watching to see if it made a difference. I think a thousand bucks worth of Omega-3 tablets went into Chicken No. 2, plus another truckload of vitamins B, C, D, iron, calcium and I can't remember what else. I was taking pills and supplements all day with this one. She weighed 4.05kg at birth, and was the heavyweight champion in the ward. No. 1 weighed 2.92kg. He was the lightest baby they had in the ward for the few days we stayed in the hospital.

Also, for no. 1, we read not a single childcare book, so basically everything he did was completely unexpected and a wonder to us all. Omigod he just filled up his little diaper, we would say in awe. We had no standards for him whatsoever. But for no. 2, I have bought a grand total of 2 books on babies and so we will actually have a clue this time around. One of them actually has a "crying" analysis, so that we can interpret what she's screaming about. So far it's been very accurate. But then again, she's usually hungry. It's not like she's asking to borrow the car or anything.

I recently discovered by accident that men have an extremely rosy impression of breastfeeding class. A sea of boobs and half naked women expressing milk in a semi-erotic fashion, is what I understand they think it is. In reality, it is a sea of boobs, but from a motley crew of wan looking no-makeup extremely exhausted women who all sit very gingerly (stitches) and who still look pregnant despite the fact that each one is carrying a small red infant. One class attendee was so dazed that she didn't realise the class was BYOB (bring your own baby) and showed up alone. Another class attendee didn't realise that you are not expected to whip off your shirt and sit there topless in front of God and everybody (she must have arrived first). The rest of us just adjusted our clothing to show as little as possible and tried not to stare at each other's boobs as the instructor walked around grabbing and squeezing to ensure milk flow. It's not exactly a Victoria's Secret moment.

In other news, it sure is good to be holding a new baby.