Impulsively we decided to catch Superman Returns last night. Mom agreed to babysit so we bundled baby and his stuff to her place while we caught the 6.10pm movie.
It was brilliant, beautiful, and powerful. Probably the best movie this year. It’s what X-Men III should have been if Bryan Singer made it instead of Supe.
Post-movie, Mom told us Wolf didn’t like drinking from the bottle anymore. He drank 50ml and spat out some and refused to drink anymore. And then she got him to sleep! That’s Supermom.
Unfortunately he didn’t do a repeat of the night before and was up every 2 hours to feed. I was exhausted by eight and at nine-thirty, his Dad got up and carried him next to me for a zombie-like feed. All was rewarded by a series of smiles, ranging from grin to laugh.
I was feeling better by 10.30am, got up, fed him, changed his diaper, and played Mozart for him. He was quite happy looking at the light so I did the laundry, folded his clothes, and sorted out what clothes I could fit in. Happily, 2 pairs of jeans and 3 black pants.
He fussed some and I put on Allan Sherman, carried him and danced and sang to him. He was quite amused. 
Mephala is a strange and rather interesting 
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