Rude awakenings

Look at him. Just look at him.

Butter wouldn't melt in that sweet little mouth. Surely not.

"My name's, Jamie. I'm a special angelic, bundle of joy and harmony who could do nothing but make his parents delirious with happiness and give them an easy life at all times," the picture cries out.

And, up until last night, I could almost have believed it myself.

What the picture, taken about 11 o'clock this morning, fails to reveal is that, from about midnight until around 6am - he cried, he wailed, he vomited, he shouted, he pooed, he yelled and he vomited again.

Then, after mummy and daddy were so punch drunk and exhausted from proceedings to sleep themselves, he rolled over and had a five hour kip. Cheers mate!

Needless to say, all of Master White's activities were completely what you would expect from a three-day-old boy, of course they were.

It's just that, being new to this particular game, mummy and daddy had convinced themselves thought that their little Jamie might be different, that all their friends who had had babies over the last few years might have been exaggerating a little in saying how hard it was. Hell no!

As we approach teatime, he's been good all day but there is more than a little trepidation about what might happen when the sun goes down and Master Jamie's latest meal no doubt comes back up.

The realities of parenthood are finally kicking in but, do you know what? Still definitely worth it!

By the way, I've mentioned in my last two blogs that I'd tell you what happened on the day Vanessa and Jamie were released from hospital. But, to be honest, Wednesday seems like such a long time ago now.

So, quickly, he wasn't feeding so wasn't going to get home, then a stern looking midwife from County Mayo called Theresa appeared on the scene. Theresa hadn't been spotted by us on the ward before this incident and wasn't seen again after it.

However, after a request from daddy, she went in to see mother and baby, assessed the situation, used her dulcet tones to scare the bejeezus out of baby who was then eating within seconds and, not long afterwards, he and his mum were heading home.

I only spent a matter of minutes in the company of this mystery woman and am unlikely to ever see her again, but she was magnificent.

Could she have been the real St Theresa? Perhaps. But whoever she was, us Whites will always be grateful.