Sunday 6th August

Jutta came round again, and again told us that I was one of the most relaxed babies she’d seen: this is good news for Mum and Dad, I’m sure, but it’s just my nature: what’s the point of making a fuss about nothing? I only cry when something’s wrong, and when Mum or Dad (let’s be honest, usually Mum) makes it better I stop straight away.

I’m expanding my vocal range some more, with a penchant for very high-pitched, almost mournful noises, especially (says Mum) when I’m dreaming. I practised more of these today, and expanded my repertoire considerably as I lay on the bed with Dad and dreamed the afternoon away.

Mum and I organised a surprise for Dad a few days ago, and today it arrived in the post: a top for me to wear in a couple of months bearing the legend “Me and Mummy love Dad”! Dad was very surprised, and more than a little touched: I could tell by the sentimental look that appeared in the corner of his eye, but he changed the subject before he got irretrievably soppy.

Today was the last day before Dad goes back to work full-time, although happily he won’t be very far away: only as far as the office in the West Wing in fact. I wonder how we’ll cope with the change to the routine?

The pattern now will be Mum taking full-time care of me with Dad working from home or at the uni where they met while trying, he says, to do as much as he can to help without losing a) his focus on doing the best job he can or b) his entire mind!

In May he’ll take over full-time day responsibility for two months, but that seems aeons away at the moment.

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