One of the Few Ways My Life is (Still) Similar to Sex and the City

What does one do with a seven week old baby?

In Piglet's case, the answer is sit him in his bouncy chair with a comforter and a mobile for company (not a mobile as in phone, obviously.  Not letting him loose on that just yet.  Or like, ever.  Watch me eat my words on that one in a few years).

I'm sure I should be talking to him, but I'm knackered and not entirely sure what we can talk about when we're just sitting in the flat.  I guess I could explain the plot of the two episodes of Sex and the City that we just watched, but not entirely sure someone of Piglet's extreme youth should even be watching it.  As everything in life can be compared to a scene in Sex and the City, I think that one is pretty much akin to the scene in season six when Charlotte and Harry babysit Brady and he wakes up and catches them having sex.  As Miranda is completely unbothered by the situation and points out that Brady (older than Piglet in that scene) doesn't know what's going on, I'm going to assume that Sex and the City is safe for Piglet to watch for at least long enough for us to get into a bedtime routine and for Mummy to not have to watch old episodes of it to kill time whilst feeding/bouncing him on her knee for hours on end before he finally goes to sleep.

Anyway, as soon as Piglet noticed I was paying attention to the computer and not him, he started howling.  It is now the next day and the same thing is happening.....

And it's now many, many hours later and he is finally snoozing, after a manic half an hour of incessant screaming that had the staff in Tesco waving me to the front of the queue just to get us out of the shop.

ARGH he's now stirring again.  This blog is the Kiss of Death for any kind of peace and quiet.