Duck & Tooth Fairy MIA

We have a duck MIA – presumed dead.  I heard a terrific squawking one afternoon from the region of the awning but just thought one of the chooks was laying an egg with much ado.  The next day I found a python snoozing in my feed shed and presumed he was the culprit (even though he didn’t have the distended belly you would expect if he was mid-duck digestion) so Ged grabbed him and put him in a sack (after peeling him off his wrist coil by ever tightening coil) and I drove him over to Angle Creek where I let him go, on the way to my daily constitutional.

It was either him or the Goanna . . . but then there were two . . .
Benjamin’s getting pretty good at his routine now and it’s only really the teething days which throw us for a loop.  He has been drooling for ages and gnawing on his fingers, our fingers, Giraffey and anything else he can find, but then some days he is obviously in pain and I am on my knees by the end of the day begging the tooth fairy to get a bloody wriggle on!
My theory is that she can’t find us and Santa (who knows our address) is on holiday during the whole of January and February (resting after his round the world marathon) so we will have to wait until March when she can get in touch with him again and get the map co-ordinates!  That’s what I tell Benjamin anyway . . . .
There are a few things that always make him smile – blowing raspberries on his belly, singing to him (anything – he’s not fussy!) but ‘Benjamin Love has a Farm Ee I ee I o’ is a favourite, Daddy tickling him in the bath, bathtime, Mama’s boobies (he’s such a BOY!), The Gruffalo (thank you Sally, what a BRILLIANT book) and The Very Hungry Caterpillar (inspired by Shirley’s foray into FAO Schwarz for him) and the Boy in the Mirror who he loves . . .

Your Baby, Your Guru

Macca has lent us some amazing books over the course of the pregnancy and first few weeks of Motherhood.  I have been immersing myself in ‘Buddhism for mothers’ while on the loo and in the sitz bath at night and there is a wonderful article in there, written by an American first time mother and long-time Buddhist as she is challenged and tested to every limit by her newborn babe and her spiritual practice goes out of the window (bye bye spiritual discipline, routine and regimen!).  She writes that she finally realised that the baby was the teacher, the buddha, the master and this was the new path for her learnings, meditation and practice.  That singing the same soothing song over, and over (and over!) again is as much meditation as sitting in silence for hours, that setting self aside in order to fully focus on, and cater to, another soul, is the greatest spiritual self discipline.  It is presumably no coincidence then that Gandhi shaved his head and wore nappies!!