two parties

Because why have just the one party when you can have two.

Yep, because having two Birthday parties is an entirely normal thing, right?  Won't knacker you out or try your stamina, mental stability and resistance to cake? Nope.  It won't fill your fridge, your bins, your boots, no indeed.  But it will be fun.  Stressy, messy fun of the infant joy variety.

Two parties, two outfits, two cakes, two sets of people to feed, water and charm and that's before I even got Elizabeth out of bed!

Elizabeth.  She is one!  She is actually one!  I can't believe it has gone so fast but our little baby isn't a little baby anymore, cue sad face.  Well cue sad but really happy and slightly deranged (from lack of sleep, excess of worry) face.  Where has this last year gone? How can she walk so quickly already? Why does she seem so drawn to the (incredibly steep) staircase?  What does "giddah" actually mean? Who can answer these questions for me? When will I know what I'm actually doing?

Two party excessiveness was not for showing off, it was born from having two quite large families and Mr P's adamant refusal to hire a hall, I think he is allergic to church halls, community centres or any establishment that smells like a school and comes with fold up tables and a tea urn!  Who can blame him.

So house was decorated, invites were sent, food was prepared, pies were made. It was great fun.  Especially when it came to eating the cake!  The cake.  Holy moly it was the best cake ever, specially made for our Bets by my fabulous cousin, what a talented gal.

Erm, baby Ugg boots?  Who freaking knew!  Betsy loves them, I love them, she had so much fun, loved opening her presents and was spoilt rotten.  Hurrah!

We discovered that Bets loves people.  Couldn't care less about us when there are other people around.  She was off flirting with everyone, absolutely everyone and anyone as long is it wasn't us. Tilly is also a bit like this, when she was a puppy we always thought Tilly would go off with anyone as long as they made a fuss of her.  I'm beginning to sense a pattern. Our parenting style perhaps? Bit lax?

Talking of Tilly, here is our favourite picture from the mini party season a la bloom.  Canine photo bomb.  Genius.

Everything you need to know about how Tilly feels about Elizabeth is captured in this one shot.  You did good work to capture this moment Geoff, we applaud you and we have decided based purely on the murderous intent in Tilly's eyes that we will never leave the two of them alone together again!

Post-party?  Well Mr P went off to New York for the week, leaving me to tidy, clean, try to find room in the bin for a million cardboard boxes and watch Betsy's little face light up whenever she sees/grabs/hugs one of her many new toys, lovely stuff really.  All done and dusted and now we're very much looking forward to another exciting year with our little pixie gal.




She is walking.  She isn't even one yet.

Not just tentative steps either, nah that was ages ago, this is proper walking and she loves it.

It started out all clumsy, often resembling a younger, drunken me with her staggering about and falling over.  It is interesting to note that this is the only time she has ever resembled me.

Now she is confident, she trots about the place happily muttering to herself and finding stuff to destroy.  If she finds a high value item; phone, keys, remote controls, anything from my handbag, she goes quiet and we know she's up to no good.  She has even learnt to run away, dashing off in the opposite direction if I find her with something she shouldn't have.

She has shoes.  They are very cute and she is quite fond of them.  Now when we go out she has her shoes put on and if we don't stop to let her out for a little run around then she gets a bit stroppy.  If we manage to get her on the swings then she is in heaven but getting her off the swing and back into the pram is not fun, not fun at all.

On a different parenting note, why did nobody tell me how hard it is to be a mum when you are ill.  Huh?  It's not like you can phone in sick is it?

I think there should be some state-funded emergency nanny service where you phone up on a sick day and a nanny in the style of Mary Poppins turns up to take care of your child whilst you lie in bed feeling sorry for yourself with Netflix and a bumper pack of Strepsils.

I am so poorly today with a coldy sore throat thing passed on by Mr P that I actually cried.  I cried this morning and begged him not to go to work.  Yes, I need that emergency nanny service real bad.  I have roused myself to finish this post whilst Bets is napping and now I think I shall return to having a lie down and maybe get myself a cup of tea.