WHEN Matthew was first born I felt awkward every time I held him.

Not because I wasn't used to holding a baby -- I got plenty of practice after Emily was born four years ago -- but because I forgot in the meantime.

Like riding a bike, however, it came back very quickly. So much so that the baby now feels like an extension of my body.

You shake off that stiffness and awkwardness, where you clutch him to your chest with a gripping combination of arms, chin and knee, and before you know it you're one-handedly dangling him over your shoulder.

Soothing Matthew in the middle of the night, standing in a darkened bedroom, jiggling from one foot to another rocking him to sleep has a lulling effect, particularly when barely awake yourself.

The winding process -- gently rubbing and patting him on the back -- generally works on me before it does on him, as I often emit a small burp.

Eventually these little procedures become second nature. Even nappy changing has its plus points. I often find myself going into an almost transcendental state as I wipe and clean and fasten a fresh diaper under Matthew's bottom.

It's like meditation.

I've just read back this blog entry and I guess I'm not getting enough sleep!