The End

This blog is now closed. The story continues over on Flip Flops and Flying Carpets.

Thank you for reading.


My Dad introduced me to an iphone app called Qwiki this morning. I love my Daddy very much, and I love him even more now. I am so happy to have downloaded this app, there is a good chance I may overuse it. You may lodge any complaints directly with my Dad :)

Meanwhile, here is an overdue Recently post in a new form. I hope you enjoy it. Needless to say, I LOVE it. 

Ps: Download Qwiki here - free!

In other news - and this qualifies as a NEWSFLASH - the Big Boat arrives today, one whole day ahead of schedule. This amount of excitement cannot be good for a Braxton Hicky pregnant woman like me!

Emily and Gabby

They may be thousands of miles apart, but that doesn't stop them finding ways to have fun together.

Harmonica Skyping with Gabby (Feb 2013)
from CGW on Vimeo.

The Quiet

We're close to the end of February and I've only given you and my blog four posts including this one. Far more have been written, they just keep getting saved as Drafts with no intention of ever being published. I'm not sure why - there's nothing I'm hiding, I suspect it's just my blog style having another mid-life crisis. Things are good. Very good. We are so happy to be here, so happy to have moved. Happiness is sometimes more difficult to capture than loneliness or sadness. So maybe my semi-silence proves a good thing.

On an entirely different note - and not the (sole) reason we are happy to be here - it's almost the end of February, I have a distinct watch strap outline on my wrist and Emily is fast building up a tan she never had. She glows, but then it's not just because she's caught the sun. 

Assembling a Little Tikes Cozy Coupe

No mean feat. We opened up the box the night before her birthday party and realised the tools we needed were not accessible ("Big Boat"). So we packed it all up again and attempted to hide it away (unsuccessfully) and then borrowed my Dad's power tools that the instructions mentioned needing. What unexpectedly came with the power tools was my Dad's know-how along with the assistance (and enthusiasm) of my little sister and her boyfriend. David and I pretty much sat back and watched.

And took photos of the process.

Someone was VERY pleased to find her car waiting for her the next morning. "My car! My car! Built it! Thank you Mummy, thank you Daddy!" (Credit was given to its rightful owners) She has done very little that hasn't involved the car ever since. She especially loves the bottle holders at the back.


If I had a penny (or Euro cent... need to get used to this!!) for every time someone told me I was brave to move country with a toddler and so close to the birth of my second child... well, I'd have a few more pounds to my name than I do. I did what I had to do and just got on with it. It was this or miss out on the valuable support system in those first few months of Squiggle's life, which I thought would have been silly.

However, with approximately seven short weeks of pregnancy left, things are becoming intense. Months ago, knowing that I had about five weeks to prepare for this baby once the container arrived with our belongings from the UK seemed enough. But when you're this close to those last five weeks and you're worn out and so constantly uncomfortable that you can barely get any sleep and Braxton Hicks don't quite stop reminding you of what's imminent, it doesn't seem like much time at all any longer.

And yet I feel that it hasn't yet dawned on me that I'll soon have a newborn. The kicks are real (you want to watch that video!!), we have finally settled on a name for Squiggle, and we marvel at the way he reacts to Emily's voice and her very touch on my belly... And yet, it's all fuzzy as if embedded in a cloud light years away.

Then I realise that by this time last pregnancy, all Emily's clothes were washed and waiting in her perfectly planned nursery, my hospital bag was packed (and had been unpacked and repacked several times), NCT classes were well under way, the Moses basket was waiting for her arrival. I had daily visual reminders. This time, so far, nothing.

And as much as it started out much easier than my last pregnancy, this one is ending very differently. So a part of me just wants the discomfort to end. I wish this baby would decide it's fine to be born really early (as long as he's healthy and all that), but the other part of me kicks that first part because I cannot be thinking it. I need time to prepare for this baby. I need to find some time to allow it to feel real. To go through the preparations, the nesting, the caring, the excitement. Because thus far, I feel a little bit like a surrogate mother. And apart from the fact that it hurts me on a level I can barely begin to understand let alone explain, I feel like I owe this little boy quite a bit more than that.

Ten days to the estimated arrival date of our belongings... Come on, we can do this. 

[image credit]

A Little Girl Turned Two Last Week

My little girl turned two last week, and I wasn't about to let it go by uncelebrated just because we'd just moved. Before Christmas, I began planning a party for her, signing up friends she'd never actually met, but whose pictures we saw regularly on Facebook - old friends of mine, and some new, who have children of similar ages. It was a slightly awkward task to begin with but once I realised no one thought me strange for simply asking that my daughter have a few friends to play with at her birthday party, it became much easier and even exciting.

The result was fantastic. Everyone seemed to get along and all the little ones enjoyed the party. I dare say all the big ones did too. Emily, most importantly, had a smile plastered across her face all afternoon and enjoyed playing with her new friends and the six thousand balloons I made David blow up for them to play with.

(I made up a goody bag for her too, anticipating a meltdown, and she was thrilled.)

I cannot thank my Dad enough for all the fantastic photos. 

Emily is still singing Happy Birthday to anyone who will listen long enough and thinks it's her birthday every day. As for the Terrible Twos that everyone promised, I can't deny it - I knew it was creeping up on us but over her birthday, give or take two or three days, it was like someone flicked a switch and taught her the power of the word "NO!" The good moments are even better than ever, but the bad.... Let's just say that old nursery rhyme now suits her perfectly... 

There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very, very good,
But when she was bad, she was horrid.

Thankfully, the good moments still by far outweigh the bad, and the cuddles - although they now happen less often - are warmer and tighter and very obviously intentional and full of affection. I wouldn't change her for the world.