830am Saturday morning and the construction hammering below us has begun. Scarlett is sleeping on the sofa next to me. She's swaddled, but has got one hand free to put behind her head in her modelling pose. I woke up at 5 to take over from American Woman, as I have been doing at 4am for the last few days. Scarlett always sleeps at this time, so it's an easy gig to give AW a few uninterrupted hours of sleep in our bedroom while I try to sleep but end up surfing the net.
Yesterday our midwife Juliet visited again and weighed Scarlett. She has put on weight (they always drop after the birth, but now she's well above her birthweight). The midwife also talked us through how to use the breast-pump Maria has lent us.
Yesterday afternoon Patrick and Kathryn came over for a visit, bringing with them a gift for Scarlett from their trip to Nepal. It is a thick cloth jacket, lined with yak hair (!), for when she's 6-18 months (at a guess . . . ). AW was a little embarrassed that the breast pump was still on display, effectively a milking machine in our lounge.
Previous to their arrival was the messiest explosion in (and around) her nappy ever, necessitating a hurried (and unwelcome) dunking in her bath. The stuff was orange and very runny. I know Chicken Tikka Masala is Britain's favourite dish but there's no need for an impersonation.
Our NCT group of new parents are trying to arrange a meet-up in in the countryside on Friday. I suspect that 'Friday' means the women and kids only, as most of the men will be at work. Only one of us has yet to deliver. I very much doubt we'll go.
910am and she's waking up now. I will change her nappy and then wake AW as she'll cry during the change and then want feeding.
