Eight weeks and three days

Just got back from five days holiday with my family. Alice's first experience of many things including snow, squirrels, deer, ten pin bowling and snooker. (Embarrassingly, I am only marginally more skilled at the latter than she would have been.)

We ditched the dental plate halfway through the week after phoning the cleft nurse for advice - although Alice had more or less got the hang of feeding, the plate had given her a huge ulcer on her tongue and when it started bleeding I couldn't bear to make her keep it in. We may try again once we see the orthodontist in Brighton, but the surgeon has said that if it's really distressing her (and us) we don't have to continue.

It's funny, until now I don't think I really believed that a seven week old baby had a defined personality. They might vary in their sleeping and crying habits, but basically they were still blank slates. But since observing the change in Alice brought about by the dreaded plate, I've realised what a strong character she already had beforehand.