Getting older

Young I may be but there are certain things that really hit home that I am growing up and possibly turning into my Mum.

My birthday last week meant I had a little money that was most-definitely-not-to-be-spent-on-the-little-one according to my big brother.

OH duly took me shopping and I bought myself a coat on the basis that it was thin, lightweight, waterproof and would fold up small enough to go under the pushchair or in my handbag. I suspect my Aunty Deborah may have the same one but don't want to dwell on that thought.

I then went to the garden centre today with my Mum and spent a hefty chunk of my remaining pounds on winter bedding plants for my hanging baskets.

Next year I suspect I may be wanting a greenhouse and a rocking chair for the garden.

Godawful twos

Feeling guilty at the amount of blogs I read and don't contribute to, I have vowed to make amends.

It helps that I'm sat here today childless and in no hurry to collect my offspring from her doting grandparents. Usually I'd be rushing after a night out to fetch her but we have hit the terrible twos and I'm enjoying the temporary quiet.

My darling girl with her fabulous chatter, dimples and blonde ringlets has morphed overnight into a shrieking monster and I hope I get the original version back very soon. In the meantime I really ought to go and collect the shouty one.