Mummy Police

You can tell that lack of sleep/clarity of thought are getting to me when the blog hasn't been updated for a week. However, we're now beginning to get into something resembling a routine. The routine is entirely dictated by young Stan, of course. He is the SUV of babies - he never stops guzzling vast quantities (admittedly, he hasn't got bull-bars or four wheel drive. Damn, another spurious analogy breaks down). When the midwife comes round there's a great deal of discussion about how breast-feeding is going. Jesus, no bloody problem there! Emily and Stan should be the mascots of the Breast-feeding Society.

On the subject of the midwife - it's like having the Witchfinder General round for a cup of tea. She turns up unannounced to catch you unawares. Everything is scrutinised and subjected to the findings of the 'latest research'. Is that a decaff coffee? No? Well, 'mummies' who are breastfeeding shouldn't drink caffeine! What? You'd like a glass of wine? Water it down, you're allowed one a week! Burn her! Burn the unclean mummy!