The missus has taken the littl'un off to the in laws so she can get a bit of daytime support for a couple of days.
I've had the house to myself, which has given me a chance to take stock after the whirlwind first six weeks. It's certainly quieter, and having a couple of nights' reasonably unbroken sleep has been good for the soul. I'll be ready to have him back in my life tomorrow though, I miss the little feller.
The weekend sees him go on his first demo, the big climate change rally in Trafalgar Square. We'll be making sure we get a few stickers to adorn the Baby Bjorn on the day...
He's already smiling at us, and not just because he's about to fart or poo either - genuine smiles. Hopefully he'll remember who I am when we see each other tomorrow night?
More horror stories from our NCT friends of screaming, colic ridden sprogs has again emphasised how lucky we've been so far with our even tempered boy. He might have a hairline that's more receded than mine, and from certain angles he looks worryingly like Buster Bloodvessel, but he also seems to have a temper that goes a lot further as well!!
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