Tom

I love this boy. He is one day short of nine months and simply delicious.


Do you see what he's doing here? Sitting, playing with toys. In the middle of the kitchen floor, you know, like babies on adverts do.

I don't remember Harry doing this. I have a good memory. He didn't do this. Too busy moving. By seven months he couldn't be left for a second.

It has worked out well. Had we been able to order up personalities, Sian would have ordered Harry's, and I would have ordered Tom's.

Compromise

I'm overweight (medical fact). My diet is not optimal. I make resolutions all the time to do better, and generally I fail.

One of my weaknesses is latte and cinnamon swirl when I get in to work. Can you blame me?



So delicious. I have come up with a compromise for myself. I now skip breakfast, order a skinny rather than fat latte, and enjoy the hell out of the cinnamon swirl. Better than nothing, right?

In case you're interested, I'm knitting the second of the clown barf socks. Loving knitting with all the colour, but glad they're not for me.

Location:Abbey Rd,Brighton,United Kingdom

Weekend Mornings

We just returned from our first night away since Tom was born. It was, of course, wonderful. The best part was the morning. Lolling in bed with chocolates and magazines.

I think this is the thing I miss most from the BC days -- the teenage years will have some advantages, right?