Thiiiings

Pretty much every parent who I spoke to in the first couple of months offered the same opinion. "It gets better," they said, taking in the haunted red eyes, grey sagging skin and yoghurt epaulettes that mark out the new dad.

This was of no consolation at the time, of course. Thanks a lot, I wanted to say. The fact that you have survived this endless hell of screaming sleeplessness and can now look back with a rosy and affectionate twinkle at my dishevelment makes me feel much better.

It's also of no consolation to discover that they're right. Smug gits.

Three months seems to be something of a watershed for babies. You can start setting routines and their sleep improves, according to midwifery. It's not hard to improve their sleep, of course. Just now, I used Google Translate to learn the Russian word for dog ('sabaka', to crudely transliterate). This is an improvement to my Russian, but I'm not ready to offer lessons yet.

Her connected drowsing record is up to 7 hours. She can sit in her rocker for up to half an hour, partly buried in toys, and remain content. She now likes bathing, except for having her hair washed. And she's settled into a reasonable routine, one which now delineates our day.

As the sun rises, currently just after 0600, she wakes up fully. She also wakes with deadly accuracy every three hours for feeding. Then she sits up and plays for half an hour, usually in her chair. Then she needs to be cradled in someone's arms until she's sleepy enough to nod off again. Bathtime is half five. Bed only works for more than ten minutes if it's after nine o' clock. She's flexible with all this, but only if it means getting fed earlier.

We facilitate it, in rotating roles as foodbuckets, washers, changers and jesters. F likes being around us, watching TV or listening to music. She's started singing along with my lullabies, sort of. It seems to be singing, even if it's only one word ('nnnnn') on one note (D above middle C, roughly, it drifts a little). If we're eating, she has to sit at the table; if we get down, she needs to come too. It's good. It feels more like family than the early weeks, which were mostly nursing care.

What else? Not much. It's been a week of small, interconnected firsts: -

1. First Vaccination
2. First Actual Tears
3. First Medicine*
4. First use of the Force**

* Fruits of the forest flavour alvedon, which drew her second ever loud 'blergh' connected to food. The first was when she latched on to V before V had a chance to wipe the feeding surface free of lanolin.

** Mr Peacock is currently supplanted by Mr Very Hungry Caterpillar, who can do the extra trick of spinning round and round when twirled from the bottom of the chandelier. When his momentum runs out, F concentrates and thrusts her palm towards him in the traditional manner. Strong she is in the Force, but she is not a Jedi yet, so I tend to fill in before she gets frustrated, abandons her training and hurries into a near-deadly confrontation with Vader.