Not bad, really, when you’re invited to your first birthday party before you’re born.
And attend before you’re two weeks old.
Course, the invite was really only because Mum and Dad were invited. Just a hanger on really. And it is a 40th.
I was really excited! It was at a posh restaurant – I’ve been busting for some really, really good, food snob type food. This place was perfect! I was in my element.
The kids were whisked off to a friend’s house for a sleepover early yesterday afternoon. Grumpy and I got a bit of an afternoon nap. We had time to get organised.
Well, sort of. Trying to time Chippie’s feeds so that I could avoid feeding whilst out as best as possible, and definitely making it so the next feed is on the left, not the right, is paramount.
(Feeding on War Wounded Nipple not much fun at home in bed, and having to do so when out is even less so. People don’t like you screaming obscenities in posh restaurants. Even if the