Whose bed is it?

As per my last post thanks to my angsty sleeplessness in the presence of Ivy (and the fact she is getting so damn big and is hitting the sides of her basinette) we decided to move her into her own room and her own cot last night. I felt a bit mean at first leaving someone so, so small in a room all alone in the cold but I have to admit that once she was in there and asleep it was nice to be able to go to my own room and turn lights on and off and talk to Ed without freaking out that I was going to wake her. Dunno why I bother being so quiet to be honest - in the daytime she will sleep anywhere...except for the peace and quiet of her bed. In the last week her favourite daytime sleeping places have included: The movies (she was out for the count the whole way through the Simpsons film), travelling down the west link with semi trailers belting past, in the kitchen with the radio blaring loudly right next to her head and my personal favourite; with her pants off, legs akimbo sunbaking under the heat lights in the bathroom with the washing machine going.

Last night I decided to cosy up her little room, make up her little bed inside the cot and get things ready for her nightime solo sleeping debut. Seems I did a good job as later that evening when I couldn't find Chloe guess where I discovered her?

I guess she was testing it out for Ivy, and frankly if it got the stamp of approval from a fussy spoilt cat I guess it must be comfy. Seems to be true as Ivy slept like a lamb in her new bed last night and everyone was happy.

In other news Ivy is losing her hair, quite the tragedy - she is now starting to look a little bit like John Howard in the follicle department and Winston Churchill in the chin and chubby cheek department. Poor little bird, I am hoping her new hair makes an appearance soon. In the meantime we've had to crack out the impressive wardrobe of silly hats she's been given to detract from her funny newborn baby looks.