Tuesday, 25 December 2012

It's Christmas...

It's Theo's first Christmas. We have a tree, the presents have been wrapped, there's a joint of beef ready to go in the oven and I've spent about 3 weeks making gravy from cow bones.

Should have been idyllic, really, but this photo masks the fact that I haven't actually slept properly for about two months, and I'm precisely 2 days away from making a call to a hypnotherapist, who will subsequently get me sleeping again.

Anyway, here's a pic from the day for posterity.

Sunday, 11 November 2012

Gender non-conformity...

...occurring before our very eyes.

Maddy in blue.

Theo in pink.

A VERY modern family

Saturday, 3 November 2012

Four generations

This picture of four generations enjoying Bonfire night in Lancashire is just prior to Maddy projectile vomiting all over the bedroom that we've placed her in.

We were having a nice time.

Wednesday, 31 October 2012


This was worth the £6 we paid for it from Asda. How we laughed at Theo's scary skeleton face.

Thursday, 4 October 2012

This is us in Bath. We actually look pretty well. This is surprising as we (I mean me) haven't slept for more than 4 consecutive hours in three months. My eyes are screaming for my eyelids to close.

Friday, 31 August 2012

5 days old and being 'cared' for by his doting sister.


Monday, 27 August 2012

Four days in and The Snooze Button experiences his second weigh in. He's chuffed about it, as you can see.

I'm behind the camera hoping he doesn't wee on the clean towel.

Thursday, 23 August 2012

Here's a dodgy a photo of Theodore Edward Roskill. Born just a few hours earlier on 23rd August 2012.

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

The chinese acupuncturist...

...has declared that due to my 'strong pulse,' I'm having a boy.

And the corner shop man thinks it's a boy too.

Two compelling predictions to add to the mix.

Saturday, 28 July 2012

And the predications are in

Jane Roberts: Girl. August 16th. 6lb.
Dave Roberts: Boy. August 11th. 9lb
Jools: Girl. August 19th. 6lb 6oz
Catherine: Girl. 19th August. 6lb 4oz
Matt: Boy. August 18th. 6lb 2oz
Kate: Girl. August 17th. 6lb 3oz
Phil: Girl. August 19th. 6lb 2oz
Big Jen: Boy. August 12th. 6lb 30z
Olly: Boy. August 21st. 71b 1oz

35 weeks and I'm

11 stone, 1 pound. That's either a lot of baby or a lot to lose.

Saturday, 30 June 2012

Friday, 29 June 2012

Picky eater

Just in case there comes a time when Maddy's turning her nose up at anything but chicken McNuggets, here's a list of things she's eaten whilst in France:

Mussels (reluctantly)
Foie Gras Pate (a girl of refined tastes)
Brie, Comte, Roquefort
Crab (rejected)
Beef Carpaccio
Steak Tartare

Oh, and this other French delicacy called Petit Filous...

Thursday, 28 June 2012

Career planning

Maddy's vocabulary development is progressing at pace. She's currently mastering with some aplomb language (and in fact, behaviour) that will be required if she were ever in a position to be a dictator.

Her are some examples:

'Don't do that!' Said repeatedly and with increasing force. Importantly, there's no consistent pattern in which we might be able to understand the catalyst to such provocation.

'Come up, come up!' Ever slightly irritated at the world not existing at precisely the correct height for her to see and hear everything, she consistently protests loudly to be elevated to the appropriate level (accompanied by indignant jumping).

'I need, I need.' Pretty much prefixes everything.

'Let my do it.' Perceptively, she already considers her parents to be dim-witted dribbling retards, so follows us around demanding that her way is the best way. 

Other than that, she's a complete angel.

Are you happy?

The aforementioned title to this post is the question that Maddy asks at the tipping point to us boiling over with anger or at the crucial telling off moment. Let me expand:

Me: 'I'm really cross with you, you are without doubt the most dreadful little 2-year old on the face of this earth. You should never ever EVER do...'

Maddy: 'Mummy, are you happy?'

Our daughter learning early that timing is EVERYTHING. So proud.

Thursday, 31 May 2012

Disillusioned, moi?

I walked out of the house this morning blindly believing I might be working some trendy, pregnant rock chick esque look. Sadly, I now realise I look like I'm wearing Matt's old denim shirt from 1997, whilst also having a slight lower back problem.

Monday, 23 April 2012

Friday, 20 April 2012


Such is my ire at the content of the below post that it's taken me a couple of days to calm down and write this response, refuting such a besmirching of my good name:

No photos
Please see the below blog posts for significant evidence to counter this claim.

No massages
Some time prior to the posting of the below libel, I purchased a Cowshed 'Udderly Gorgeous Full Body Care' package for some overpriced antenatal pampering. Said purchase has simply not been redeemed as yet.

No strokes
Simply not true.

No concerned questions
I was very worried when I asked what was for dinner last night.

Thursday, 12 April 2012

Halfway there...

....and there's a noticeable lack of bump attention.

No photos.

No massages.

No strokes.

No concerned questions.

I'm adding neglect to the list of issues with our marriage.

Monday, 9 April 2012

Helping out in the garden

It's tough when everyone thinks they know better than you:

"Why are you looking for it down there? The steering wheel's right here, Grandpa."

"Like I'd take lessons from you, Mum. Stop cramping my style."

"Now this is how it's done."


The concept of the Easter Bunny didn't take much explaining, to be honest.
Before I'd even finished the word 'chocolate' Maddy was outside, basket in hand.

"So I'm supposed to collect all the eggs and then eat them? Wotevs."

"I thought somebody said Easter Bunny? So why's this owl laying chocolate eggs?"

"I've already got a green one. Presumably that means I can just eat this egg straight away?"

"I hate odd numbers. If I just take this one..."

"I'm going to be awesome at the egg & spoon race. Whatever that is."

Potty training

We'd cleverly timed this to happen down at Heatherfield over Easter with Grannie and Grandpa.
But Maddy clearly didn't know what all the fuss was about, picking her moment to enjoy the Saturday supplements:

Sunday, 8 April 2012

Helping in the garden

But not letting that get in the way of trying to look pretty in the garden. Which is far more important.

Halfway there...

...and the bump is blossoming. Note the slightly ridiculous hairstyle in an attempt to detract from my rotundness.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Guinness Book of Records

I'm convinced Kate broke some sort of record yesterday: she dropped her fourth consecutive iPhone down the loo.

I'm less worried about the phone, and more that Maddy's first words to us every morning are 'Baa Baa' - meaning 'Let me play the Baa Baa game on your iPhone now or I'll scream until you both go to work'.

We no longer sleep as well as we used to.

Wednesday, 7 March 2012

Buckle up

The current morning ritual.
Getting ready to go out in the buggy. With Raffy. No parental involvement required.

Saturday, 3 March 2012

15 weeks tomorrow

And Kate's also off to Dallas tomorrow.
Having been in Barcelona last week.
Don't think for one minute that this sort of absentee parenting is going to be aceptable when there are TWO noise boxes in the house.
Oooooh, no.

Big girl's bed

Last Thursday saw the arrival of Maddy's first bed. And a Conran bed at that (well, Conran for M&S):

It's now had two nights usage.
Night 1: Maddy falls out only the once (we had put down cushions and a duvet on the floor in anticipation).
Night 2: Maddy ends up not just on the floor, but somehow then gets stuck under the bed.
So all in all, it's going really well.
(And yes, we've now ordered a foam bed bumper to try and keep her in the new bed).

Monday, 20 February 2012

Back and bigger than ever. Literally.

After a long break from the blog (which didn't go entirely unnoticed - thank you for the incessant flagging, Harrises) we're back with a bang and two big bits of news, recounted in order of importance:

  1. I've sold the Volvo. After much nashing of teeth and pulling of hair - and basically pretending to sell it over the last 6 months - I put an ad on CarandClassic.co.uk about a fortnight ago. A flurry of enquiries and viewings later, this great love of my life is no more. *sniff*

  2. Kate's pregnant.