Two weeks, a lifetime. Our first few days as a threesome went fairly well, though la petite hadn't read the book about newborns not being able to stay awake longer then ninety minutes or sleep less than sixteen hours a day. Stress levels rose somewhat during the latter half of the week - feeding & sleeping pattern became a bit more random. Like all enfants, la petite coquinette seems to like playing up during the evening, just when her parents are dying on their feet. Then the weighing at the local centre on Friday suggested negligible weight gain since leaving hospital. Could all be due to differently calibrated scales, but questions still chase themselves round a parent's head: is she getting enough milk, is she sucking properly, is she getting enough sleep? etc, etc. Such are the preoccupations of debutant parents. Judging by the quantity of pee and poo production, there can't be much wrong with the feeding technique. On verra…
Today patterns have been rather more regular, so maybe we're getting there. The star of the show even slept through the lunchtime visit of a pair of amies de la bienheureuse. More gifts to add to the avalanche.
Life beyond the little girl wonderland seems somehow less tangible, but goes on. I went out on a chilly Saturday evening to watch les Gones fiddle away on a 1-0 lead, against the 10 men of championship rivals Rennes for the last 20 minutes, and duly concede a last minute equaliser. The punters were not happy. Much like my mood six hours earlier while attempting to watch a dodgy stream and look after baby at the same time. Still, a draw after being 2-0 down didn't seem quite as bad as it might in other circumstances.
And in the wider world yet, local elections took place in France yesterday, resulting in a strong showing for le Front National. Mainly due to mid-term discontent with the government, and the second round next week should put them in their place, but inquietant all the same...
