Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde

Oh. My. Word.

Come approximately 7-8pm every night, you'd be forgiven for thinking, should you walk past our house, or in the vicinity of our house, or even in a suburb anywhere near our house (ahhh, you probably wouldn't even need to be in a suburb near, and you could be in a car or plane with six sets of ears plugs in and it probably wouldn't be a hindrance either), that we are perhaps trying to murder our child. For around four hours a night.

It's a very pleasant business, but as much as we're happy to know that his lungs work extremely well, the fact that both the husband and I are quickly going deaf is a slight detractor from the joyful celebrations.

The dogs are somewhat bemused by the incredible noise that this newest and littlest and funniest looking puppy produces come night time, and sit there no doubt wondering why no one puts him in a kennel outside when he won't stop barking.

The cat I think expressed herself spectacularly this morning by projectile vomiting all through his room. Very disgusting. And oddly coloured. Although, I've never seen kitty projectile vomit before, so I was a tad curious as well I have to admit.

We can't decide if it's colic or just end of day grumps with a bit of redheaded temper thrown in for good measure, but whatever it is, it's a baptism of fire. The midwife, bless her a thousand times, last night suggested a deep bath so we filled up a bucket and popped him in that which he appeared to love - of course he probably could have done with a bucket that was a tighter fit because he was a bit difficult for the husband to keep a grip on, wiggly as he is and there was a wee face plant incident which involved a bit of spluttering, much blinking along the lines of 'what the hell was that?' and an almighty glare for good measure. The husband has also just gone for a dash for gripe water in the first instance - it's what our midwife suggested and therefore what I'm inclined to try first on the basis that I sought her advice and that's what she gave me and I don't get to complain if I don't follow it. We're also armed with a small list of other accessible remedies suggested by friends and family to try on the back of that if gripe water doesn't work. Here's hoping it does though. The husband has also been instructed to get fortifying iced animal biscuits for moi. I also keep returning to a page in a parenting book I have which recommends a slug of booze in difficult situations to relax oneself. Love it!

It really is one of life's little ironies that this parenting business should absolutely not be for beginners, and yet, the first time, it always is. And actually, in reality, it really is every other time too (should you care to repeat the experience) because every child is unique with unique needs and personalities and therefore, more than likely, what you learned on the first one you probably need to adapt.

And quietly, I'm continuing to work on my request list for Fertility Plus should the husband and I go the rest of the way to barmy and decide to have another - so far I want half an embryo replaced, no more gingers (the temper thing) and reduced lung capacity. Probably smaller feet too. They should be able to swing it, I'm sure. They seem quite clever over there, and it's hardly a big ask.