At Isabelle's House

Apologies for the delay in posting updates, but we've had a busy couple of days here at A Puppet Opera. On Monday we (I) foolishly tried to put Isabelle on a sleep/eat schedule, which everybody thought was a silly idea, most of all Isabelle herself, who was using her own timetable by dinnertime on the first day. So, with that, we discovered who was the real Boss of the Family: Baby. Mommy and Daddy await further instructions.

Isabelle had her first bubble bath on Tuesday night in anticipation of Grandma Shirley's visit the next day:



She was a very good girl in the bath, but man, was she slippery! We had a tense few moments moving from the water to the dry changing mat, but fortunately, everyone survived intact.

We had a nice visit with Grandma Shirley the next day.



Gran brought lots of presents including a fluffy Scottie dog and some much-needed babywear in a tiny size, and we ate a delicious lunch of grilled salmon and puy lentil salsa (cooked by Jules), that included a big slice of home-made carrot cake with lots of frosting for dessert. Afterwards we had more cake and then the "speciality du maison" (Jules' fantastic creme brulees) for afternoon tea. YUM.

Jules has really been a dreamboat the past week, doing all the cooking and housework so that I can mess around with Isabelle, who has finally got the hang of eating and enjoys her meals at a very leisurely pace (up to an hour at a time). I think all this traveling to France has been a bad influence...

Now that we're getting more used to living with a baby, we're back to hacking away at the house. Jules took the nasty anaglypta wallpaper off the spare bedroom walls, and unfortunately most of the plaster came away with it, so it looks like the whole room is going to have to be re-plastered. Curses! I did take a photo of the shredded room in progress, but Jules erased it. You'd be amazed...

Finally, a cute photo of feets:



I was delighted to discover (as early as the 20-week scan), that Issy was not plagued with the square, snub-toed, Fred Flinstone-esque feet that are the trademark of my family. She's got Jules' feet exactly, which means that when she wears shoes, her toes will go all the way to the end, instead of stopping halfway with a pod of air flapping around in the front. Lucky Isabelle!