(no subject)
Elizabeth probably wouldn't admit it out loud but she appreciates having a bathtub in the house. Island present or not. It's not as good as a boat but it's pretty handy and Weatherby likes it too - he kicks and squeals and splashs and cries when Elizabeth lifts him out. She's still a little nervous of dropping him when he's wet and slippy. At four months Weatherby has grown and needs feeding less often though he eats more. Elizabeth sleeps a little more and doesn't feel as if she's constantly in a daze of childcare - even though James has always as much as she has - feeding Weatherby has always obviously been her responsibility.
Today however Elizabeth has slept well, Weather nursed without fuss and has been calm ever since and there is something new for them to investigate. The mat on the floor was not there last night. It's not very practical seemingly coloured a million shades of blue and all different textures. It has a curved bit of plastic attached with bits of fabric seaweed and small model fishes dangling off it. There is a bell and a bit that makes a small squeaky noise. "I rather think this is for you, Weatherby," Elizabeth tells her son. Weatherby sticks his fingers in his mouth and watches her. He's always watching her which Elizabeth generally takes to mean he's waiting to see what goes wrong now. But she crouches down and carefully settles Weatherby on his back on the mat. He then stares up at the small fish and reaches for them to no avail. He is burbling calmly to himself as he does and kicking his feet and then to Elizabeth's surprise in his attempts to reach up he rolls over. She expects he will cry but he doesn't - in fact he's smiling. And pushing himself up slightly as one hands carefully pats at the material under him. He coos to himself and then stops pushing himself up rubbing his cheek against a bit of soft blue fur.
"Do you like that Weatherby?" Elizabeth said surprised and pleased that things are going so well. Normally by now she's upset him somehow.
Today however Elizabeth has slept well, Weather nursed without fuss and has been calm ever since and there is something new for them to investigate. The mat on the floor was not there last night. It's not very practical seemingly coloured a million shades of blue and all different textures. It has a curved bit of plastic attached with bits of fabric seaweed and small model fishes dangling off it. There is a bell and a bit that makes a small squeaky noise. "I rather think this is for you, Weatherby," Elizabeth tells her son. Weatherby sticks his fingers in his mouth and watches her. He's always watching her which Elizabeth generally takes to mean he's waiting to see what goes wrong now. But she crouches down and carefully settles Weatherby on his back on the mat. He then stares up at the small fish and reaches for them to no avail. He is burbling calmly to himself as he does and kicking his feet and then to Elizabeth's surprise in his attempts to reach up he rolls over. She expects he will cry but he doesn't - in fact he's smiling. And pushing himself up slightly as one hands carefully pats at the material under him. He coos to himself and then stops pushing himself up rubbing his cheek against a bit of soft blue fur.
"Do you like that Weatherby?" Elizabeth said surprised and pleased that things are going so well. Normally by now she's upset him somehow.