A first

This is Maddy's first ever wee in the sea. It's a fairly full beach, so this is us being surreptitious.

Obviously the removal of pants, followed by the five minutes it took to persuade her to crouch fully into the water, whilst Matt takes photos, possibly hindered this aim.

Farm girl chic

Team GB

Only Maddy emerges from this photo with any shred of dignity still intact. The rest of us need to avoid camera and bicycle helmets in the future.

Regardless, I needed to post it as it was our first bicycle trip en famille. We took approximately 2 hours to get ready, and then I curtailed the trip at the end of the road, based on my entirely rational fears of exposing an 8 month old to erratic London traffic. 

All in all, a complete fail.

A Kaleidoscope of colour

There's so much going on in this picture that, like Maddy, I'm also wearing sunglasses.

It's Maddy's third Birthday and she's wearing every single present she ripped open a mere nano-seconds before.

We've put Theo in some jolly red tights and have forced a paper hat on his head, the elastic no doubt cutting into his delicate baby neck, meaning he's probably only minutes away from being garrotted.

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.

Gender non-conformity...

...occurring before our very eyes.

Maddy in blue.

Theo in pink.

A VERY modern family

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.

Halloween

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

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.

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

Precarious.

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.

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

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.

32 weeks...

...and still smiling (well, for the cameras at least).

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)
Gherkins
Sardines
Foie Gras Pate (a girl of refined tastes)
Brie, Comte, Roquefort
Anchovies
Crab (rejected)
Olives
Beef Carpaccio
Steak Tartare

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

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.

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.