Thank you, MMG

Thank you, so much. (Sincerely- god it's hard to write this how it should sound).

I did need a little perspective, I suppose.

Yes, I suppose my lack of bonding feeling is that whole "I wonder when his real parents will come and pick him up" thing. And, yes, you look at mothers with babies younger than yours and think, wow, she looks like a real mother- and then think they probably think exactly the same thing of you. I am a mother. Total wig out.

My supervisor of training says it's a very female thing to have this little niggly voice in the back of your mind saying "If only they knew how stupid I am they wouldn't let me be doing this" and that despite being an excellent neuroanaesthetist, she still thinks this of herself, as do many of our eminently well-qualified and experienced colleagues. She made the comment that I didn't seem to suffer this malady. Once I got off the floor from rolling with laughter, I said that maybe I just hid it better. My point is, this probably extends to parenting as well. That we all think maybe we're doing a really crap job and shouldn't be allowed alone with a baby, when in fact we are all competent, loving mothers.

Now if I could just believe this....

Thank you for your kind words. And no-one over-uses exclamation marks like I do! (Or hyphens, apparently). My complaint is that MrT doesn't drink- well, not much anyway, so when I want to have a glass of wine, I know that whatever I open will prolly only be drunk by me. There's a bottle of Tamar Ridge Pinot Noir 1999 on our coffee table with a whole two glasses drunk out of it and the Vac-U-Vin stuck hopefully in the top, but I know that by the next time I want a swig, it will only be good for cooking. *sigh* [Maybe I shouldn't be so upset about that pulp mill after all if I never get to drink the wines...]