Time goes by... so slowly

Well the creams and lotions the doctor prescribed seem to be working and George's skin is looking a lot better – no more angry red patches, even though it can still be a little dry in places.

It doesn't seem to have affected his sunny disposition though. He chuckles away when he's lying on his back and we're singing 'If you're happy and you know it clap your feet' – mummy and daddy know it should be hands but George's feet clap together far more easily than his curled-up fingers.

And it's songs such as these that daddy finds himself humming or singing when he's nonchalantly chopping veg, tidying toys away or having a shower – which is all well and good when there's no one about but it's a habit that should be kept in check. Remembering all the words to long-forgotten nursery rhymes is also a bit of a challenge and mummy and daddy will get to the middle section of Sing a Song of Sixpence and head off at a lyrical tangent.

This week the clocks have gone back and fitting in an extra hour of something so that George's routine fits in with the change to GMT proved more difficult than expected. An hour seemed to be such a long time and we had to stretch things out at half an hour a day over the course of two days. His body clock is now resynchronised successfully. In fact, George's body clock is quite precise – his daytime naps last exactly 40 minutes and if we feel he needs a little more sleep we settle him down again and he sleeps for another 40 minutes. For cooking purposes it would be simpler for daddy to put George down for a kip than to reset the clock and timer on the oven.

Not quite up to scratch

Poor old George, well... poor very young George actually. He's developed a rash which we think is baby eczema. It all started behind his ears, as most things that creep up on you generally do, and has spread around his neck, across his shoulders and on to his cheeks.

At first mummy and daddy were extremely worried, but trips to the doctors and the chemists seem to have allayed any fears – if not George's rash. The pharmacist also noted a touch of cradle-cap and suggested we rub in a little olive oil, which has worked wonders – even if it does give his hairstyle that comb-over look and make his scalp smell like a parmesan crisp.

Of course, George is doing his very best to scratch the top of his head, but his arms just aren't long enough. Strange, because he looks in perfect proportion to us and daddy tested his own arms and found they were long enough to scratch the ear on the other side of his head. Perhaps arms on humans grow at a different rate to other body parts.

It was even suggested that a little olive oil could be added to George's bath water, but since then the doctor has prescribed some special stuff which does the same thing – its main ingredient being soya oil. George's bath times have certainly become more fun though – mainly because he now has toys and has started giggling at all the splashing and squirting. And it has definitely been getting more splashy with the slippier rubber starfish, crabs and ducks.

After bath it's usually bed time, which we've noticed is a peak time for accidents. Not for us, but for people in general. There often seems to be an ambulance/fire engine/police car siren wailing loudly on its way to someone's misfortune in the next village (or the villages further on) that makes George stir just as we've got him off to sleep. Never normally hear them during the day for some reason.

Once he is off to sleep it's time for mummy to enjoy the regular mid-evening glut of soap operas and last night EastEnders' Evva (that's Heather to anyone outside Walford) gave birth. What she was pretty much expecting to be a baby girl turned out to be a baby boy which she immediately named George. Mummy and daddy are just hoping they haven't started a trend – first the Jack Russell terrier, now Heather's new arrival...

Bouncing baby boy

It's been fun this week. George has started to realise when people, and in particular mummy and daddy, enter or leave the room.

The fun bit is when you've got a spoonful of mushed-up butternut squash that suddenly finds its way into his ear rather than his mouth as his head shoots round to see what it was that has appeared in his peripheral vision.

It has also been a little strange this week too. George stopped overnight at his nana's house to give mummy a full night of sleep and a little lie-in too. After years of quite happily being a couple all of a sudden the house seemed half empty. It was devoid of George and felt a bit lifeless like it had lost its soul – a bit like a house without any furniture.

Even though when George is at home he is usually tucked up asleep in his room and doesn't (usually) wake until the early hours, we still missed him.

It's been quite exciting this week as well. George spent a few tentative minutes sussing out a bouncer thingy that you hook on the door frame and seemed to relish the experience. He loved it even more when daddy took the contraption off the door frame so that George could 'walk' around the house – a bit more like bounding than bouncing.

The main thing that makes us laugh at the moment are the noises he makes. George has a sort of "Charlie Says..." meow that he makes when he's tired. Problem is that this makes daddy giggle, which makes George jiggle when daddy's putting him to bed, which means George opens his eyes and we have to start all over again. He's also started blowing rasberries with his lips and gets surprised when he sprays himself with droplets of saliva – nice. And the other day he surprised mummy and daddy when, after they'd warmed a bottle for his feed and brought it to him, he seemed to exclaim "allelujah".

Hair we go again

George has had it a bit rough this past week or so. Firstly he had his last round of injections which left him with an upturned bottom lip for a couple of days, now he's got the snivels... and so has mummy.

Even though you can tell he's not quite himself you can still get a smile out of him. Apart from the smiles you get when he first sees you, it takes a little extra effort to get him giggling away.

Tickles are the best bet, then next is jigging up and down which is not as straight forward as it sounds. Mummy and daddy have to face each other with one of them holding George facing outward, then bob up and down to some music – George is one of the few males to appreciate Girls Aloud solely for their music – and just hope no one is walking past the kitchen window.

Anyway, we soon get tired of that – even if George doesn't – and it's back to George with his cold again. It doesn't seem to have affected his sense of taste though. He tried butternut squash puree this week and seems to like it. The apple juice we bought him hasn't gone down so well – in fact it seems to come up a lot more easily. So after checking the bottle and discovering that it's suitable for any age from four months up (which must include 42-year-olds), daddy has found that he quite likes it.

The other thing about George having a cold is that he doesn't sleep so well. We can hear him on the monitor with his snuffly breathing thrashing about in his sleep and the little thin patch on the back of his head is getting that bit balder. It has left daddy rubbing the top of his own head and wondering what position I must be sleeping in.