repent...

...O Babycake. For surely diarrhoea and projectile vomiting are the wages of snail eating sin. Poor little chap.

pest control

Babycake just ate a snail, shell and all. He gritted his little teeth and wouldn't let me get anywhere near his mouth until he had swallowed it. He then got really upset with me when I wouldn't let him get his hands on any more of the vile things. What next, cat poo?

breathe

Not very much happening at the moment. We're both quite absorbed in our respective jobs and Babycake and there isn't much left over for anything else. Mr McMuffin is to mad people what a stick of dynamite is to fish in a lake, throw him in a job, wait for the explosion and see the nutters floating to the surface. He is suffering with a surfeit of crazies to manage. I have less problems with mad people in my job, just more boring stress. Sometimes I feel as if the people of (insert name of London borough) would think I was overpaid for my work, other days I'm sure they'd want to give me more than the CEO. Anyway, all this leads me to dream of holidays and a few days in a mediterranean type setting. I'm not sure which setting, but then that's the joy of dreaming. All I know is since Rock Cake's recent return from Nepal, I'm not dreaming of mountains, death defying kayaking stunts and lentils and rice every day.

The weather has been so glorious that we've spent every spare second in the garden for the last couple of weeks and even though it was chilly today, the three of us gamely sat eating our dinner outside this evening, Mr McMuffin and I had heavy jumpers on, but Babycake seems to adapt to any temperature without complaint. The garden is looking pretty good already, by my (low) standards and I'm looking forward to seeing it change over the summer. Babycake has developed a keen interest in copying me and is watering plants and trowelling dirt around. Sadly, he also enjoys whacking the plants and has taken against a lovely new shrub and has practically decimated it. Next year I think he'll be a bit more interested in helping out, but he's really not doing a bad job now and I'm sure I'll have to let him grow his own plants the year after. So many good things to look forward to.

babycake breaks his vow of silence

Babycake has finally deigned to talk to us. Oh, sure he has been saying munnie and daddu for a few months now, but nothing prepared us for his first proper words. As he gave me his nappy, don't worry I won't bore you with our nappy routines, I said thank you, and he immediately repeated back 'ank 'ou. We were both a little bit stunned, and to be honest a little tear began to well up. Although with second thoughts it was probably just a spot of dust. I just know that it will be no time now until I am wishing that he would just shut up. Great isn't it?

mysterious benefactor

I know you're out there, just wanting to give some of your money to a good cause. May I suggest that we McMuffins would be worthy recipients of your largesse and that the small sum of only one million pounds sterling would be all that is required to tranform the lives of three lovely people.

sacrifice

Dear Jesus, thank you for dying to save our sins and giving us a long, hot bank holiday weekend. It's a shame that Mr McMuffin has to work most of it, but I think that secretly he's pleased not to have to look after Babycake while I tend to the garden in that time honoured British tradition.

I only worked three days last week, as I took Wednesday off to see Big Sister and the Niece and Nephew. It was lovely to see them (and Single Cookie, Mrs Carrot Cake and the Masters Carrot Cake, who were visiting the parents, too) and Babycake adored all of them. What a shame we don't all live closer, I do miss then and I'm sure they'd babysit too! What a shame I don't work part time as well, you can get so much done at home and feel much less tired too.

In other news about Babycake, he is getting very huggy and cuddly. He is losing interest in his golf club and adoring his new football (also trying to steal footballs off other children) and is rather partial to eating dirt and stones. He is still the nicest baby in the world (except for yours, I'm sure they're equally nice) and Mr McMuffin and I feel moved to comment on his utter gorgeousness at least a million times a day. While this may make us good parents, it also makes us insufferable bores and I really don't care.

oh my god!

We just drove past Costa Coffee and there was smoke billowing out of the door. Please, God, don't let Costa Coffee burn to the ground, leaving Babycake and me nowhere to go for a medium skinny latte with an extra shot.