Saturday 30th October 1999

Saturday 30th October 1999

I was ringing around insurance companies on Monday, as Mark (your dad’s friend who lives in Manchester) had a car to sell: Ford Orion H reg, with alloy wheels, for £800. I phoned about 20 companies and the quotes ranged from £710 to £480 pounds. The fact that the car had the alloys made the insurance even more expensive… The car is also pretty big, and I rather have a small car, we ended up giving up the idea and asked Mark to keep an eye open for small cars. He’s a mechanic and whatever he gets will be very safe and reliable. The question is: When? I am dying to start driving a.s.a.p. but it looks like for now I’ll have to stick with my pushbike.

Tonight, just before you went to bed, you stood on your own and did a little dance! It was so funny and you were so pleased with yourself! You call everything “Boo”. First of all you called books “boo”, but now it’s just everything. If I ask you to get me a book, sometimes you get a book, other times you get a ball, and other times you just get the first thing you see. It’s a nightmare changing your nappies as you never lie still and cutting your nails is a struggle. I wouldn’t bother if I didn’t have to but if they are too long you scratch yourself and everyone else. Last night you slept through! The best you had done so far was 7:30, and today you woke up at 8:00. You had gone to bed at 9:30 and slept right through. I have a feeling you will stop breastfeeding completely very soon at this rate. The only time I feed you is when you wake up in the middle of the night and it’s not even a proper feed, it’s more for comfort than feeding yourself.

I’ve been feeling a bit restless lately. I’m finding it difficult to think of things to say to my friends, or things to write. Because all I do is look after you. Of course I love doing it but it’s hard spending all my days just talking gibberish and doing exactly the same things over and over again (oh, that sounds like work in the real world). Anyway, I miss contact with adults (R. doesn’t count, he’s a big baby sometimes). I think my brain is dying… On the other hand I’m dreading going back to work and leaving you to be looked after by somebody else. I enjoy seeing all the little things you do and seeing that you love me a lot more than anybody else because we spend all this time together. You only cry when I leave the room, you don’t even cry when your dad leaves! Some days I can’t even go to the toilet (when I’m on my own with you) without you crying your eyes out. I’m just hoping that by quenching your thirst for me whenever I can, this phase will pass more quickly.