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We got a letter from a lovely lady at the council the other day, asking how we were getting on with washable nappies and asking if we would help spread the word. Of course we said we would because frankly, of all the things we have so far done to help Alfie live the "Reduce, Reuse, Recycle" tag line, that is by far and away the best.

I love the fact that our bin isn't constantly filled with poo scented plastic. I love the fact that Alfie has a big squishy towelling bum, and I especially love the fact that we don't have to spend a flipping fortune on nappies every time we go shopping.

I'll mention one more of Alfie's contributions here, mainly because I think it's something more people might go for if given the idea.

The bottle companies have realised that they are onto a good thing in these modern days of "never mind about not breast feeding, our bottles are a close second" and have come up with a range of teats that mean you have to buy a new one pretty much every time your little person has a growth spurt.

Oh and also, you can't use them for more than 6 months, so there's no keeping them for future children just in case you thought you were making a wise investment in the future.

So what to do? These teats are perfectly useable, just not for humans, so ... how about sending them to your nearest animal rescue for their orphaned animals? Alfie has just donated all his old teats and newborn bottles to a local centre who often have orphaned lambs to feed.

Not sure why but that makes me go all warm and fuzzy inside.

In other news, we have just bought what can best be described not as a high chair, but a throne on stilts. It cost more second hand than I was planning to pay new, but it has topped every single user survey I have seen and totally supports what we want to do with Baby Led Weaning.

It kills me that we have to wait a few months before we can give Alfie anything but milk, so we have decided to spend the intervening time getting him used to being at the table at mealtimes.



The idea being that by the time he starts stealing things from our plates, he'll be totally at home with the idea that table = food and we won't have that to contend with as well as the new and exciting sport of pin the lunch on the wall.

Ooh and also, he has moved to step 2 of mini sous chef.

No longer does he lounge in his pram while I demonstrate to him like some bad Nigella takeoff, ooooh no.

We have progressed to sitting on the kitchen counter and holding things for daddy. Or possible wearing them. Whatever works.

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