BATM learning the interwebs

Dad: I got this email the other day. From my friend in England. It was an Irish joke, it was so funny.

Me: Oh hm?

Dad: Yes, I have a friend in Ireland. I’m going to FORWARD it to HIM! Because he’s Irish.

Me: *facepalm*

Dad: But I can’t find the Forward button. Can you show me?

Brain fog

So today I have packed up my grumpy little son and taken him to the doctors to be injected with vaccines and inoculations in both little legs. To him this must have seemed like the biggest indignity. He gets extra hugs and cuddles from me and Rich. At the doctors the nurses coo over him and he has more big cuddles with Mum. Then whammo, he gets stabbed in the legs with a horrible stinging liquid. That's gotta suck. No wonder he's been rather fretful since we got back. I am sure he'll thank me for it one day.
Today's non-baby activity has been to buy the items needed to make my Christmas Cake. I normally make it in September so it has lots of times to get nice and mature, but you know, I was rather busy in September. The plan is to make it this weekend, in between feeds and sleeps and settles and washing and naps. Here's hoping it actually gets done! I use the recipe from the place I bought my cake box from - www.woodencakebox.co.nz. It always tastes really nice but last years was quite undercooked, so am going to cook it for an extra hour this year. I like having traditions and I hope making my cake becomes a good tradition in our family. It's funny cause I don't even like fruit cake but my step dad and father in law are both  big fans so it always gets polished off.
We recently discussed what to get Stan for Christmas this year - seems a bit ridiculous as he won't have a clue what's going on. So we decided we'd just put some money into his savings account and maybe get him a couple of shiny things - my car keys or something - and wrap them in Chrissy paper so he has something to chew on on Christmas morning. We are having it at Rich's parents this year, and with Stan being their first grandchild, I am sure he will be getting spoiled ROTTEN. Lucky little guy.
Speaking of which, I hear a squawking from the nursery...the overlord calleth.

Back in the saddle

So last night I was reading my blog archives for the first time in ages. It was strange, and sad, because I used to LOVE to write and if I may say so myself, some of that shit was fun-nay.
I've said it before that Twitter has compromised my ability to make my thought processes longer than 140 characters. So instead of racing off a well thought out, witty tweet (yes they're exactly that, all the time) I'm going to mull it, and hopefully instead turn it into a blog post.
The reason for this is that at the moment, my life is baby. That's all there is. Baby when I sleep, baby when I wake. Baby when I'm happy, baby when I'm sad. I love love love my baby, more than I could even begin to explain, but I've realised that it's unhealthy to think about babies ALL THE LIVE LONG DAY. So at least one part of my day is going to be some kind of writing. About babies, who knows. Could be about cooking. Or my garden. Or that black furry creature who lives with us (not Richard). Or about the state of the youth today. Because in my day, we didn't wear underwear as outerwear (Madonna clones excepted).
I'm also going to re-connect with my blogging pals and get reading and commenting like I used to.
Until then, here's a pic of my special little guy, being ultra cute as always.