Go, go, go, go Go, go, go shawty It's your birthday We gon' party like it's yo birthday We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday
It happened. She is one. And this,
apparently, is just the start - seemingly everyday I return from gravy
train on which we are all trapped to find her ever more curious and ever
changing. Her shuffling refined to a thing of remarkable beauty used to
slalom obstacles like Hermann Maier in his pomp while her
dexterity abounds. Nothing delights her more than pulling duplo apart or
sitting quietly turning the pages of some weighty tome with ease. Oh
and polishing floors. She loves polishing floors - a trait she has most
definitely not picked up from her parents. Indeed the title of this blog
feels ever more like an anachronism - she is a baby no more and whilst
toddling remains a distant aspiration she is resembling more a beano
infused with a distinct sense of self - even if this precludes the
ability to acknowledge her own body. Finding her mildly splattering her
fingers in a duplo window frame screaming for help when it is her other
hand causing the damage illustrates that causality is, as yet, beyond
her capacities.
But enough of the portentous drivel - more importantly she had a birthday party! Although, "she" should taken to mean "we", as it was more a celebration of her indomitable parents, of which I am 50%. And I when I say indomitable it should be taken to mean "knackered". And what a party it was, to give you a sense of the overall ambience I think this captures it. Given the dismal weather of recent weeks, Beano was granted a day of sunshine and given the funk she was in on her actual Birthday she was on top form, slaying around all over the place in the company of legion babies while her parents drank finest cider and discovered the untold joys of Chocolate Brownies smothered in clotted cream. Indeed, the hardiest of us remained in the Park long into the night enjoying more fine cider and eating brownies with clotted cream (seriously try it - It's probably the most enjoyable way of shortening your life span in the face of the impending environmental apocalypse). When we decamped from the park her pram was filled with detritus of any good party - a litany of empty bottles. Nancy passed out the pram on the way home looking something like a rogue bishop whilst we considered what Turkish finery to eat.
In the word of Ice-T, it was a good day and we said massive thanks to all who came along to celebrate the baby formerly known as Mungo turning one. Thank you cards will hopefully arrive before her second birthday if the Jessop household functions with its usual alacrity. But we three had a most excellent time - Thank You. Beano sends lots of manic waves by way of great thanks.
As ever her are some pictures of the Bean looking positively edible. Indeed, for a few weeks she was looking positively dainty but she has returned to hemispherical best, with her neck and wrists receding into the chubby ether.
Bertie, Bertie uber alles, uber alles in die Welt.
And a little bonus for you all.
But enough of the portentous drivel - more importantly she had a birthday party! Although, "she" should taken to mean "we", as it was more a celebration of her indomitable parents, of which I am 50%. And I when I say indomitable it should be taken to mean "knackered". And what a party it was, to give you a sense of the overall ambience I think this captures it. Given the dismal weather of recent weeks, Beano was granted a day of sunshine and given the funk she was in on her actual Birthday she was on top form, slaying around all over the place in the company of legion babies while her parents drank finest cider and discovered the untold joys of Chocolate Brownies smothered in clotted cream. Indeed, the hardiest of us remained in the Park long into the night enjoying more fine cider and eating brownies with clotted cream (seriously try it - It's probably the most enjoyable way of shortening your life span in the face of the impending environmental apocalypse). When we decamped from the park her pram was filled with detritus of any good party - a litany of empty bottles. Nancy passed out the pram on the way home looking something like a rogue bishop whilst we considered what Turkish finery to eat.
In the word of Ice-T, it was a good day and we said massive thanks to all who came along to celebrate the baby formerly known as Mungo turning one. Thank you cards will hopefully arrive before her second birthday if the Jessop household functions with its usual alacrity. But we three had a most excellent time - Thank You. Beano sends lots of manic waves by way of great thanks.
As ever her are some pictures of the Bean looking positively edible. Indeed, for a few weeks she was looking positively dainty but she has returned to hemispherical best, with her neck and wrists receding into the chubby ether.
Bertie, Bertie uber alles, uber alles in die Welt.
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| Back on the Bottle. |
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| Death Stare. |
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| Don't try and stop me Bev. He's been asking for it all afternoon. |
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| Best Practice. |
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| The Sleeping Bishop |
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| OMB. |
Best practice has, I think, been superseded by best value. Either way, I think the beanette done good.
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