Tuesday, 5 April 2011
Good Lord, I'm tired. Harriet is teething. At 4 months. It's not fair. Also, she had her third set of jabs today, so is feeling very sad and sorry for herself, poor little monkey. She keeps grabbing my finger and shoving it in her mouth, and I can feel the little stubs of teeth that are on the point of breaking through. It's meant that she has cried a lot today, and refused to sleep. All she wants is to be cuddled on my shoulder. Being in the sling is not good enough. Being in her chair is not good enough. Being in the Bumbo is not good enough. My shoulders and neck ache like mad; my daughter weighs a good stone. Mary, our Practice Nurse, told me that she was a good size today and that I needed bother going to the Baby Clinic unless I feel like it. So I won't.