Tough competition

Now that Olivier is more and more able to use his hands with precision, I find myself struggling to feed him. See, there's his pacifier, and his hands, and my shirt, and all that is in competition with the boob. I keep telling him that only one will give him milk, which is what he's after, but he laughs and grabs my finger.
Feeling a bit better here. And happy, after a few days at my mom's, to be home. So much so that Olivier just didn't want to go to sleep tonight, he had to discuss the last days' adventures with the bunnies in his room.