One Christian Baby

Slept through the whole thing. Including the pouring of the cold water. And the rock concert and massive fireworks display. (OK, so the latter weren't exaclty part of the baptism but they were very loud nonetheless). Not only did he sleep through the service, not only did he sleep through his party for an hour, giving mum time to scoff all nonna's fine cakes, he even slept really well through the night. Pupo, aka Houdinini, can escape his shawl within minutes and has the sheets and any blanket down at his feet seconds later. He isn't cold, but he doesn't like feeling "exposed" and wakes up for a bawl. SAHM of Acorn Diaries fame recommended a baby sleeping bag for wriggly babies. Escape THAT, Houdinini! And he didn't. And he slept. Like a baby. And he ate and ate and ate. As his mummy was telling him what a good boy he was, he recylcled the milk all over her lovely nightie. Well, it wasn't a very lovely nightie, but it was 5.30am. And the sad thing? Mummy didn't even really mind, just brushed it off and went back to bed. (Yes, thanks for asking, it IS in the laundry basket now and I have had a shower.)

The service was private and beautiful. The pastor performed in Icelandic and we had readings in English and Italian. We had very few guests, but those we had we invited because we knew that it would mean something to them.

The milk monster shall awake soon, demanding his lunch... best get the muslins ready (and yes, SAHM, you really can't have enough!)