On Tuesday morning, I got dressed up in my pink tracksuit and we went to the breastfeeding drop in clinic. I was the model baby. Didn't cry or fuss at all and attached beautifully. I think the counsellor thought Mum and Dad were a bit crazy being there when eveything seemed to going so well! But they got a few handy tips and I got a great feed.
After that we went to a fun place called IKEA. I'll be in that ball pit as soon as I realise I have feet! This time I didn't see much, as I was asleep in the pram, but the Parents' Room was great. Dad took a photo of us there, so you can have a look. We got some cool lamps plus some other things that we didn't realise we needed until the nice people at IKEA told us so.
On Tuesday night I met Uncle Sam. I thought he was lovely and so I gave him a bit of a smile. Then I cried for an hour 'cause I was still hungry but Mum was a bit slow giving me more to eat. I don't know why she insists on torturing me!
We didn't do anything yesterday, except go for a walk to the shops. I was very cranky in the evening. Again, I was being tortured. It's not my fault if I want to feed almost continuously for 6 hours! Dad gave me a bath, which was OK, and I was very cute afterwards, but then I remembered I was hungry. Mum fed me again, but I still felt sad. Eventually I went to sleep (and stayed asleep) at about 2am. Mum says thank goodness that I still slept for almost 6 hours. It's a saving grace at the moment.
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