We’re slowly but surely getting to know Baby M. She loves milk, she likes a bath (with a couple of drops of nice baby oil. She prefers purple to pink, but is not really fussed about her clothing (yet).
She does her business regularly, she grasps and pulls Little H’s hair when it is dangled in front of her. She loves kisses and cuddles and is not a fan of sleeping alone. She likes her dummy and finds comfort in it when times are tough.
But perhaps the most important trait inherited from her mum is: She loves to sleep! Last week I phoned my mum worried that Little H had given Baby M a concussion, as M had been sleeping for 6 hours straight.
This weekend she slept through five hours in Ikea, a man playing bagpipes close to her pram and a pre-Christmas dinner with eight grown-ups and seven kids.