Today we visited the Christmas markets in Manchester. These are European-style markets with visiting market traders from various European countries. We enjoyed various flavours of mulled wine, Dutch cheese and Dutch pancakes and roasted chestnuts amongst other delights.
We took the train which was a first for Oliver. We got some Christmas shopping done and all in all had a great afternoon.
Oliver was well-behaved all day, though all the movement and fresh air seemed to send him to sleep for much of the time.
When we got home all went well until we came to give him his last bottle and put him to bed. It took about 20 minutes for him to have his bottle and all looked OK. But when we tried to put him to bed he started to cry. And cry. And cy and cry and cry despite all our attempts to wind him, hug him, comfort him and soothe him. He didn't seem to have a temperature, but when we turned the light on or shone a torch on him he miraculously went quiet. Basically it seems there was nothing wrong with him. He just didn't want to go to bed. Eventually, after nearly two hours of stop-start crying, he went to sleep.
Stop press: He just woke again and cried. Hayley managed to calm him but I get the feeling this may not be the end of our imperfect end to an otherwise perfect day.
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