Today it was time for Orna's first vaccinations. The day started quite well, she had a long sleep we went to bed around 11:30, and we woke her for a feed at 6am (and yet again, I realised I can't go that long without expressing or I might explode! I did get a phenomenal 310 ml out), then she dropped back off. She had another little feed around 8am after Daddy left for work, then we slept until 9. Our appointment was at 10:15, and by the time I'd expressed again, got her ready (in a lovely turqouise baby gro), changed her nappy from the enormous poo (I suspect this was a delaying tactic to try and miss her appointment) it was 5 past, so we got our scampering legs on and legged it to the doctors. The (slightly snotty - what is it with NHS receptionists?!) receptionist said she'd check if the nurse would still see us, and she did. As soon as we got into the room, I lifted her out of the carrycot and sat her on my knee and she threw up on herself. Orn isn't normally a sicky baby, so again I think a distraction tactic! Spare babygro on (red with white spots, no way near as pretty as the turqouise number), she had the jabs. Her surprised face when the needle went in was adorable, the crying face when she realised what was happening wasn't, I did feel like a mean Mummy. She settled on the walk home, but about an hour later we had half an hour of inconsolable crying (cuddles, food and changing all didn't work!) until she took a bottle and then had a sleep.
She's definitely been in a funny mood all day, mostly her normal self but with sudden mood swings (smiley and happy, then a loud whinge, then back to smiley happy). At least she's not got a temperature yet, so we've avoided doping her up with calpol. I love the taste of the stuff, so an open bottle in the house is dangerous (does drinking calpol count as an addiction to prescription painkillers? It is available on prescription after all. How many bottles a day would get me put in the Priory?). Also, her size 2 little lambs bamboo nappies arrived - they look huge compared to the size 1s, it's hard to believe she's halfway to being the recommended weight for them! When the delivery man knocked on the door, I could hear him talking to someone. I opened the door and the little ginger and white cat that seems to want to come and live here shot in. I picked her(?) up and popped her back out, telling her she doesn't live here (though I'd quite like to steal her...).
Later in the day, Mummy ended up causing a "Daddy accident" with her nappy (this is where you don't check that the inner isn't poking above the PUL layer, and wee wicks up the clothes), so we had our 3rd change of clothes (a record!).
I also discovered there is a local "attached parenting" group, and am debating whether to go. I'm not sure if what we're doing really counts as attachment parenting - we are "baby led", not forcing her into a routine (beyond waking her if she goes more than 6 hours without a feed, a hangover from her weightloss means I'm a bit scared of leaving her "hungry"). I'm doing various slightly hippy things, cloth nappying, "babywearing" (though I hate that term) and I intend to baby-led wean. I've bought her quite a lot of organic clothes (something I don't do for myself!) and avoid using chemicals on her as much as possible. We'll see what Thursday brings...
