After an extended hiatus of mammoth proportion I am ready to write again.
It’s been almost a year in exile. They say time flies when you’re having fun – I say it depends on your idea of fun.
Baby-Bel (I hereby re-christen her Tinkerbell) is no longer a baby by any stretched imagination. The elevated ranking from baby to big sis is a quantum leap in the life-lesson of growing up. She is no longer the fulcrum around which this household pivots; she is now the proud owner of one baby brother – no previous owner, a few scrapes on the bumper, no MOT.
Mr A refers to him as Golden Boy (GB) – a reference to the hypothetical beacon of light that shines out from his behind. Obviously there is no truth in the allegations of GB being a mummy’s boy; furthermore, the only visible output from GB’s derriere is neither light nor shiny.
The last 12mths have seen a settling in to suburban living; gaining (and alas not quite losing) 2 stone in weight (and bringing home another baby as a byproduct); starting Tinkerbell on her long and fruitful educational road to riches; buying and losing a house (damn those fickle vendors). It’s been a rocky road but the pot holes are slowly being filled (still a few down my road, dear Council).
To 2011, the year of the rabbit. To resolutions, revelations, and relations.
Banking, Baby and Beyond 