The Sleep Grinch

It would seem that my remaining loyal readers (all 6 of them), who didn't remove me from their google reader during my long sojourn in the blogging wilderness would like photographic evidence of our Libby aka little Roo, Lady May, Mayflower, Libskerino and approximately a trillion variations of each.

We're all about nicknames in the Siswick household.

So here she is:

2 weeks

10 weeks
14 weeks
Very 1st Christmas at 4 Months
She is now 4 months old (I almost accidentally put 14 months then, but that's just how long it actually feels like we've had her and how long it seems like since I had a good nights sleep) and adored slightly more each day.

She is currently a big fan of licking just about anything that gets within a tongues reach of her. Which we're hoping she outgrows before she starts school.


Oh and in response to this post. Her DNA was kind to her, no hairy back gene for Libby Mae.


Eli's on the other hand is thickening up for winter. You'd have to see it to believe it.

All is not right in the galaxy........

It would appear that after more than a decade of being ogled and adored by women globally and let's face it ladies it's not for his footballing prowess (and I can appreciate a quality cross or free kick as much as the next person), David Beckham is now actually trying to repel women.

First there was this hideous beard.....

and then this dodgy new hairdo....

(Don't even get me started on that suit or the fact that Charlize Theron hosted the World Cup draw whilst not even attempting to pretend she had a clue what she was actually promoting. I swear she was only there to smooch Mr Beckham and for that she should no doubt be commended).
Then tragically both together.

I am now sadly being forced to reconsider my 13 year long crush on him myself.

My allegiance is definitely wavering.

One things for sure, I won't be getting a David Beckham mug and jigsaw for my upcoming birthday like I did the year I turned 22.

Let that be a lesson to you David.

Separated at Birth?

Out in the car running errands with Eli we stopped at some traffic lights.

"Wow look Mummy, it's Tom and Jenna!"

I glanced around immediately to see where my brother in law and his girlfriend were.

Then I saw this:

I honestly can't figure out if Tom and Jenna should feel offended or not.

Watch Out People!

You know you're completely out of the blogging loop when you log in on blogger and it kindly informs you that you have 261 unmoderated comments. For a mere second I let it go to my head a tiny bit and felt tres popular indeed. Right until I scanned the comments prior to moderation and found each and every one to be completely identical, all offering me Viagra.

Viagra? Are you kidding me? I have 3 kids, the smallest of which it appears failed to read our family sleeping policy prior to arrival in chez Siswick and is killing me slowly, mostly a brain cell at a time. I think I'm likely down to approximately 12 remaining right now.

I need a pill to keep me awake in the morning and another to put me to sleep at night preferably for at least 8 gloriously solid hours. Viagra I can live without, it is surplus to requirements here.

But is this what the blogosphere has come to in my absence? Spam comments? Uncool.

It was a humbling moment when I came to the realisation that if I neglected one of my kids as badly as I have neglected my lovely blog these last 12 months or so social services would've intervened long, long ago. Surely my blog is as worthy of my love as my offspring?

So I have used up all my paltry excuses for not blogging:

I'm pregnant and tired-check.

I just had a baby and am even more tired-check.

I fell over because I was so tired and fractured my shoulder-check.

I can hardly string a sentence together due to combined tiredness from pregnancy, having a baby, fracturing my shoulder and having to contend with dear sweet beautiful Libby whose single goal in life is to ensure I never get a good nights sleep-check.

No more excuses people, I'm back on the blog.

And I mean it!

That is my only New Year Resolution.

Really? My Child?

Now that my firstborn is in full time school he frequently comes home with his jumper generously spattered with stickers in recognition of his good works and impeccable behaviour.

Obviously I always feel a smug glow of pride when he comes out adorned with stickers while other parents pick up their kids who aren't so beautifully decorated. (No doubt that'll be me next year picking up Eli, he's just not all that bothered about making people happy like our Thomas).

Of course in school I was always the model of perfect classroom etiquette (when I wasn't idly chatting to my classmates and ignoring the teacher of course) so I think Thomas is just following in my footsteps.

The other day as we were collecting his coat I enquired as to why he'd received a sticker of a dinosaur that said 'excellent-saurus'.

"I had the tidiest pile".

"What?"

"When we got changed for PE and had to leave our clothes tidy my pile was the very tidy one".

(Completely bewildered) "Oh, right!"

"Cos some of those kids just are not good at being tidy".

And that behaviour he did not get from me.

But I'm hoping it's contagious because my house would really benefit from a healthy dose of that.

(On a tangent I just barely got around to removing the 'your pregnancy' widget. Imagine my horror when I just checked it only to find I'd neglected it so long it was telling me I was 7 weeks pregnant all over again! I'd rather fracture my other shoulder than be pregnant all over again).