Oscar does the Daddy-Shoe Shuffle

I swear this was not set up! We were about to go for a walk. I told Oscar to put his shoes on, thinking he would just fetch them. Instead, I found him with feet firmly ensconced in Matt's loafers, ambling about. I opened the front door, and off he shuffled!

It's only a stage he's going through...

Our maid said that Oscar would 'change' once recovered from his tummy trouble. Smarter, more words, more physical abilities... and she's right. Instead of saying 'bah' for banana, he now says 'bah naa'. Instead of just reaching up to grab something off a table, he now stands on tip toes and really stretches to get the desired item.

But one unfortunate development is the onset of tantrums. It began when I refused to give him his third bottle in a row of electrolyte solution. This orange-tasting drink (note 'orange-tasting' - who knows what colourings and flavourings are added?) was vital to keep Oscar's fluids and essential minerals up while he was sick. But on the road to recovery, not so essential in the quantities that Oscar wanted to consume.

Oscar took great umbrage at this: screaming, screeching, crying, collapsing to the floor, rolling around, then getting up to scream and cry louder and louder. Distractions didn't seem to work, but simply ignoring the hoo-ha thankfully did.

I thought the electrolyte solution was the key to Oscar's tantrums, but no. We went cold turkey on the electrolyte solution and he's still had a few tantrums. Thankfully, he hasn't tried anything like head-banging the floor, but he did throw a wobbly in a taxi yesterday - much harder to handle in public.

I'm now clinging to the hope that this behaviour is sugar-related - I'm cutting down his sweet popcorn and biscuits. If not, the mantra is: it's only a stage, it's only a stage.

Stomach bug

Poor Oscar has gastroenteritis.

It started with fever and an incredible vomiting episode on Wednesday morning (I now know what 'projectile vomiting' is), and has now progressed to the watery brown diarrhea stage.

We've had two trips to the doctors - the first doc just thought Oscar needed some paracetamol and a sponge bath - which Oscar absolutely hated. He screamed whenever the doctors or nurses touched him. On Wednesday he weighed 12.3 kg and today he weighs 11.99 kg. They tried to take his blood pressure. It was so cute their little velcro arm band. But Oscar struggled and screamed so much, no reading could be taken.

Anyhow, Oscar no longer has a tummy like this anymore. He's on a diet of biscuits, toast and rice cakes.



On the other hand, he's still quite himself, playing and exploring. Just not as active as usual, which - dare I say it? - actually makes a nice change.

A brighter note is that Oscar has suddenly become very keen on toothbrushing. I don't need to chase after him to get his gnashers brushed. He has a number of molars all coming through at the same time and the taste of the toothpaste and the feel of the bristles must come as some relief.

Cat-Bear

Babies can become attached to certain security items - just think of Linus and his blanket in the Snoopy cartoons.

Oscar is very much attached to Cat-Bear. When he has his sleeps, she must be there to cuddle him. When he wakes up, he is still clasping her in his hands. If she's not there, he gets most distressed!

I manage to convince Oscar that Cat-Bear sometimes needs a wash, and we take her to the washing machine where she is carefully deposited by Oscar, only to be snatched out again at the last minute. Eventually we manage to get her in and yesterday, Oscar accepted a toothbrush as a poor temporary substitute.

Cat-Bear was a gift from Oscar's Aunty Cat - hence the name. Who knows what would happen if we should lose Cat-Bear? She was bought in a big Tescos in Borehamwood under the children's Cherokee range. So if you happen to find one floating around in a Tescos, think of Oscar and... well, I'm sure he would be most grateful for a spare Cat-Bear...