Urgle burgle

So people keep asking if I feel completely different, and I don't -- I feel just like me, but with a baby. So much so that I quite often forget I've got one and am slightly paranoid about leaving it on the bus... The main part of my life that's changed is not having to schlep to London four days a week to do a job that I really should have left three or four years ago, when the company got taken over and the clients got bigger and the projects got ever duller. I was paralysed by ennui. Dear oh dear.

My gorgeous baby is currently lying on the bathroom changing mat gurgling with delight at goodness knows what -- oohs and ahs and little squeals echo from the room. We had the first smile a couple of weeks ago, and it's true what they tell you: their whole face suddenly lights up. Amazingly rewarding. The gurgling sounds so close to speech that it seems odd to think that proper talking is going to take so long, but I suppose it is *quite* tricky...

I think I'm suffering not so much a low as a post-high: the memory of that elation is still so clear that everything feels very flat now. I was so full of confidence, too: stopped worrying about money, stopped worrying about work; even stopped worrying about singing.

The gurgles have subtly changed to complaints -- time to go!