We got off to a good start today. I was raking through the washing basket to get out light colours for a full load along with Marcail’s stuff, when I found them. Yesterday, you see. I got up, got my clothes, went to get dressed and my socks had gone. Was sure I’d put them out with everything else. And here they were. Obviously my subconscious had decided to put them straight into the wash without the indignity of having to suffer my feet in the interim.
On entering the lounge where mama was busy dispensing goodness to herself I was asked if I could put on some coffee. Asked in a somewhat harried tone, too. Turns out Mrs. B had already put one lot of coffee on in plenty of time and gone for a mug just before opening the milk bar. It was at the point of pouring the hot liquid from the filter machine flask into the mug that the complete and utter lack of any coffee ingredient of any kind became apparent!
So, we’re doing really well at the moment. No loss of mental faculty whatsoever. Not even shlightly. In fact, absolutely on top of our game for Rita the midwife making her visit. Big news there, Marcail is down from 3090g (6lbs 10oz) to 2890g ().
STOP!
HOLD THE PRESSES!
We have been diddled!
On consulting a unit converter I find 3090g is in fact 6lb 13oz – I must inform Mrs. B (who operates on imperial measurements and has therefore been suffering under this misaprehension for some days now) immediately that she must feel 2.83% more painful, deflated and chuffed. In these recessionary times, dear reader, finding we have received an inflation beating increase on our love bundle is not to be sniffed at!
But, back to my point. Marcail is now 6lbs 6oz, a loss of 7oz in the first week. With her appetite and feeding ability now well established and the milk supply stepping up a gear we’ll be on the high side of birth weight in no time.
Since we were firing so comprehensively on all cylinders we loaded up the car as planned and headed off to see friends for the afternoon. Missy seems to have taken to her car seat, sleeping patiently in a part of blissed out milky la-la land as we got the final bits and bobs sorted and headed off by the dawn splitting hour of 2:30pm.
We spent the latter part of the afternoon with the Findlays in Dollar. Tea and scones, and no need to prepare or clear up. Heaven. They have two fine young specimens, but the elder was at her grandparents so it gave a very genteel air of calm and competence. Five O’Clock and Marcail was thinking of waking which would be somewhat inconvenient since we’d be tied down to one spot until she refuelled. Quick, into the seat then off to the chariot of sophor and round to the 
(Drs) Schleubledeuble in Tillicoultry. We had hardly had time to ferry the wagon train of goods into the living room before Eilidh, their eldest, was ensconced on the sofa, Marcail in arms and looking pleased as punch.
The big event, apart from the poo which we were starting to wonder would ever appear after two days of absence, but Marcail came throught trumps! No, the big event was her chord falling off. So our lovely wee daughter now has a genuine, bona fide, belly button. There was a bit of concern that the article in question and the clip might have gone missing. Fortunatley it was found, not in one of the burgers, but her clothing. A good note of growing up on which to end another day – though pappa had to drive home and mamma has another three hours of milk bar duty.