I feel like a battery cow on a bad AWA this week. Ivy has been contantly on the boob. Every time you turn her head sideways, the mouth is wide open and searching like a sideshow clown. When do my boobs get a public holiday? Theres almost no point getting dressed except that I don't want to cause a public nuisance at BiLo.
She's really stacking it on too. Keith and I have been calling her Amanda Vanstone - and she even has a little fatties rash under her chin, where she traps dribble, and bits of potato.
I'nm trying to encourage Ivy to eat solid food still but it's not going too well. She smears it on her face, the high chair, the couch, the floor and me, but if any makes it into her mouth it's by accident; and then she gags and looks shocked. She has a wierd look about her these days, because she is always wearing a bit of dried potato in her eyebrows.
Today we're off to Sydney to drop off the baby capsule, see Lucy and say goodbye to Matt, Shirin and baby Gabe, who are off on location with the new Australia movie. We're going to stay overnight with Sammy and then catch up with mum and Ivy's great-aunts Sue and Jill tomorrow. A big day for a small fat person. Fingers crossed she doesn't crack it.