It's all gone a bit wibbly

First - the good news - I've been on my diet for 3 days now and all is going well. The target is 9 pounds in 9 weeks. Totally wrong of course - crash dieting, only leads to the yo-yo again but I'm going to La Gitane and Krusty's wedding part deux in 9 weeks and even though it won't make a radical difference, I want to look like a slightly less puff-monster than I do at the moment. All going well, I'll feel better, my complexion will improve dramatically and my newly found radiance will avert attention from the tyres of fat oozing out of my body. At least, that's the plan...

As for the rest, Felix has gone totally momma-bonkers. In a bad way. He just won't put me down. And cries and cries and cries unless we maintain very close, physical contact all the time. I totally love my boy, but it's getting ridiculous. I can't do anything without holding him. He's a big boy. My arm is killing me.

Worse of all, he won't sleep in his cot - so nap time and bedtime and night time wakings are fraught with anxiety as we spend hours trying to get him to settle, with little effect. Anything for a bit of peace, so I've been caving in and letting him fall asleep in my arms, or I lie down next to him.

As usual, we're resorting to the 'bit of everything' theory: bit of sore throat, decent dollop of teething and a whole heap o' separation anxiety.