Hot, cold, warm, cool, chilly or toasty , I am not fussy, it's all about the numbers for me, I am unabashadly obsessed with the temperature, the source of this daily complusion i have put down to the introduction of a thermometer to our bedroom.
With the arrival of our little baba came a little baba monitor, complete with digital temperature gauge, from the moment I switched it on, it became what they call my idee fixe, a fascination with the digits before me, knowing the exact room conditions to the nearest degrees celsius is my new party trick, I also like to announce it when I get into my car, which luckily also has a Temperature sensor, it's the last thing I check before I go to sleep and the first thing I check if my baby wakes up.
As all mums will know babies are particular little creatures, they need to be not too hot, not too cold to be comfortable and sleep well, not to mention the safety aspect, so I am happy if the double figures show me anywhere between 17 and 20 at bedtime, anything below that and I am deeply troubled, I fear my little girl maybe nesh like her mummy, her sleeping patterns of late have been akin to that of a new born, frequent waking, random yelping and general restlessness, it has been a trying time, i was under the impression at the ripe old age of 7 months she would be achieving the holy grail they call "sleeping through" so along with testing the hunger theory, cold had to be a contributing factor. As anyone who had experienced baby induced sleep deprivation will sympathise with, you would do anything to try and coax/encourage your little one to sleep for a solid 8 hrs, if Tilly wanted to listen to Nessus dorma whilst bathing in ass' milk I would arrange it in a jiffy, if it helped her sleep from 7pm - 7am!
My fear now is that my protege may already picked up my interest for all things measured by mercury, my distaste for luke warm tea is mirrored by her turning her button nose up at milk any cooler than room temperature, and likewise her puree, to be fair I wouldn't eat cold vegetable mush, so warming it is the least I can do, it's like master chef in our kitchen each mealtime, her taking a mouthful of food, me waiting pensively for the verdict.....usually indicated by a wrinkled nose or a gurn, both of which I ignore and continue to feed her regardless, but you can't blame the kid for trying!
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