On a train

One of the simpler things on my maternity bucket list was to take Fig on a train. ( Continue reading… )

True Faith

True to my maternity bucket list, also. Fig loves big pictures – he has to have a good daily squizz at the Eroica posters we have framed on the kitchen wall, and he gets really excited when we point things out. So I wanted to take him to an Art Gallery, and I love Manchester for its collection of pre-Raphaelite paintings. Thrown in as a bonus was an exhibition of art inspired by Joy Division, which included a lot of memorabilia, and as a HUGE Joy Div fan, this was a great opportunity to introduce Fig to a bit of my modern culture.

So he slept through it.

He did however, love the Shirley Baker exhibit (brilliantly titled Woman and Children; and Loitering Men), as did Saul and I. There was a lot of kicking, wiggling fingers and shouting. And Fig did some of that, too…

A helping hand

Always eager to help, Fig’s latest offering is a tiny hand to steady the umbrella on a rainy, windy day in Manchester.

( Continue reading… )

My little adventure baby

I heard about Adventure Babies on the grapevine. By which I mean a Grandma told me about it one week at the local library’s Rhyme Time session. Basically, she said, your baby gets to roll around in the kind of nonsense you’d never let him roll around in at home, even though you know he’ll love it. Or words to that effect. I was sold. Fig gets messy but the house doesn’t? Sign me up.

( Continue reading… )

Eighth and ninth month birthday

Time, as you know, flies. At supersonic, Concordian speed. My baby is already two thirds of a year old, and I cannot believe there was ever a me before him. And yet at the same time, I cannot believe he’s really mine. Crazy. Being a parent, I have come to realise, is all about dichotomy.

( Continue reading… )

No going back…

Like thunder, crawling has been threatening for a while.

( Continue reading… )

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