Saturday 30 August 2014

Bubba's Favourite Things

We all have those baby books. Some of us love them, meticulously penning the dates of each miraculous milestone as they occur; printing the photos we snapped at exactly the right moment and scrapbooking them into place with pride. And some of us begrudgingly fill them in for the fourth child, sneakily fudging a few (most) dates since we have no idea about when tooth eruptions and first rolls actually occurred. I sit somewhere in the middle. A few milestones are haphazardly kept on my Sprout App on my phone, some are in the baby book and for others I am relying on the date sticker in my camera to help me remember if my daughter ever asks, or when I actually transfer every detail to her baby book. Whichever comes first.

Inside these beloved, or 'buried deep amongst the baby clutter', books is the "Favourites" section. When my now eight month old daughter was around twelve weeks I excitedly noted her favourites as anything she smiled or reached for. Which, of course, was everything. She loved her mobile, her parents, a particular stuffed giraffe we always gave her, Sophie (of course Sophie!) and anything we sang to her. It was wonderful! And probably a little far fetched...

It's amazing how their personalities grow so quickly though. Now I can definitely see true tastes and preferences emerging from my pint sized companion. So here is a list of just a few of her favourite things, and experiences:


Photo credit, Pietro Motta

Wednesday 20 August 2014

Going Out


I'm in the grip of turmoil and only just emerging from some kind of hazy fog (thanks to sleep training, my husband's willingness to bounce on a fit ball at three thirty am and red, red wine). It has been a beautiful turmoil as anyone who has made it through the first year of their first child's life can attest to. This past week I have slept my first six plus hours straight since halfway through my pregnancy (just over a year ago). Longer baby sleeps means the return of a glass or two of red in the evening, more civilised conversation between myself and hubby and a vague glimpse that the 'real world' is still going on outside my mummy bubble.