Funny how you plan a quiet weekend only for it to turn into an absolute bender! Partied all Friday and Saturday nights, and hit the bottle again last night... passed out at some stage; can't remember nuffink after 3am - it was mad. SO much fun.
Mum and Dad stayed up too - they didn't have to. I mean, I can look after myself, and 30-somethings need their sleep. Unlike us young'uns... Can't wait until next weekend - might even invite some mates round.
We keep on getting visited by midwives, which is all well and good, but they're interrupting feeding times and starting to give me the shits. And, they ALL have contradictory advice - I'm starting to worry that Dad will make a concoction of all the things they've recommended putting on my belly-button (which is fine, just a bit gunky - if Mum's worried about that, she should see my arse! Oh yeah, I wish she'd stop noting down every time I have a poo - I'm starting to get a complex).
One thing us Zzzzers need to remember is that whoever shouts loudest shouts last. Dad had this ridiculous theory that I should sleep in my cot, rather than their bed (or wherever), but a few minutes of hysterics on Fri night soon wore them into submission. C'mon, I wasn't born yesterday - parents will do anything to placate a crying baby.
Right, better toddle on - need to look up "little bugger" in an on-line dictionary, as the phrase seems to be being bandied about rather a lot these days.
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