We’ve joked since C was little that she needs to go to baby anger management classes.
She certainly has a way of letting us know what she wants, complete with staring, pointing, shouting and thrashing of arms when she gets really serious. I’ve had many a clout round the head from her already.
Today, she wants my lunch.
The lovingly picked out healthy baby’s lunch with a nice balanced range of fruit and veg that we’ve offered her just isn’t good enough: she wants my juicy, yummy, spicy Nandos chicken with chips instead.
To be fair, I can’t blame her. It really is quite yummy.
Unlike her big sister, who could sleep for England, sleeping has never been one of C’s strong points. In fact it’s not uncommon for us (or more precisely me) to be up every hour or so through a good chunk of the night.
Which makes days like today, which happens to be C’s 8 month ‘birthday’, even more surprising.
Apart from a feed at 11pm, C has been fast asleep since about 830 last night.
That’s 13 hours!!!
Just imagine how much sleeping I could’ve got done in that time! (Yeah I know, 13 HOURS!).
Of course it didn’t quite work out that way, and we got rudely awoken at 630am by the aforementioned big sister, who decided today was the day to role swap.
But I’m not complaining, no not me! Hell, I even managed to write this blog post, which is more than I’ve managed for weeks!
Today is a good day.
Flicking through photos today I noticed that C was wearing the same sleepsuit today, aged 10 weeks, as she wore on the day she was born.
‘Hasn’t she grown?’ etc etc. which of course is a bit double edged given her slow weight gain to date…
She is indeed growing up though, as today was her long awaited first jabs, which she took like a pro.
She was obviously trying to butter up the doctor beforehand, as she was flashing him her biggest smiles. And it must’ve worked too as she barely flinched for the first one and had just a couple of seconds of crying for the second.
The doc was also kind enough to prescribe us some better eye drops to deal with her lingering gunky eye, which she’s kindly passed on to me.
Well I guess it was my fault she caught her first cold, so she’s only getting her own back.
Touché, little girl, touché. Just don’t make a habit of it.