Welcome Matilda

My friends have had a baby. I went to see it yesterday with Emily and it was quite something. Matilda is very small and exceptionally sweet, with huge blue eyes that are spellbinding. Sometimes she crosses her eyes and screws up her mouth into a tiny O and then she seems like a possible emigrant from another galaxy. But most of the time she is the embodiment of perfection. She is even able to write her own blog.

What was really miraculous, however, was not so much Matilda herself, but her mother, whose body has been turned into a feeding machine overnight. Lucy seemed blissfully resigned to this four-day-old state of affairs. I was brimming with admiration for her and daddy Jake who danced a whimpering Matilda around the room with unexpected but touching patience.

As far as I can see, the best thing about being new parents must be the food – luxury biscuits and dips and exotic teas were coming out of the family’s every pore – and the new mum in particular has a newly-vacated abdominal space in which to put these tasty items. Her self-control in the face of cookies was inspiring. My weight graph has plateaued for the past three days despite frequent exercise and abstinence from almost everything fun except baby visits. Although there was that delicious prawn curry on Wednesday night. And the handful of self-brought Marks and Spencer’s chocolate éclairs that I scoffed while we were visiting Matilda, and the fact I didn’t make it to the gym yesterday and instead went shopping for miniscule clothing, which was far more fun but may have slimmed my bank balance more than my thighs. Hopefully my miserable lunch of emetic canteen bubble and squeak soup will bring the graph plummeting towards its pre-holiday goal. If not, I’ll be the one sunbathing in a full length dressing gown.