Year by year

What a difference a year makes....

This time last year I had just enjoyed a week in the UK celebrating The Boy's first birthday and heading back to the USA with a horrid cold.

We celebrated The Boy's second birthday on Saturday, en famile. I went over early and armed with a mug of tea, sat down and watched as The Boy opened his presents.

One by one

That is, open one, proclaim 'wow', and play with birthday toy for ages before being interested in opening another one.

Hmmm, are we really related????

Having spent all day, and I do mean all day, opening presents we (Father of The Boy, Darling Daughter and The Boy)all took off in my car to see a show. Brum. A car that saves the day from naughty robbers and the like.

It was truly apalling and I was quite grateful that The Boy wanted to leave just before the interval.....

We headed off to the park. Which was truly wonderful! It had a fantastic playground area with so many activities I ran around like a loopy kid myself. The Boy never seems to mind what I do. He laughs at me often......

Quite a gaggle of early teens came into the play area and let their hair down. I'd forgotton how self conscious that age group really are! I sat on a bench and watched my Darling Daughter and The Boy running around, laughing and trying every swing, frame etc in sight. I watched the Teens. What did they call them in West Side Story? The Jets. Forgotten the others. There they were, in hormonal hell and fighting for every second of their growing independance.

I sat contented and happy on the bench as dusk came upon us

'Watch the fucking slag, she's fucking trouble, fucking hell, fucking bitch'

Arrrghhhh
My God what on earth was that??

I had promised DD that I would get on with Father of The Boy all day, and he with me. Did reprimanding 40 youths count???

I decided it did and wandered over to a steaming DD and scooted the family out of the park. I say steaming as she was livid with the growing troublesome element and I reminded her that we were all 'happy happy' today. She smiled and we ran to the car. Well not counting the brief visit DD needed to make inside a group of dense shrubbery to wee.....


Back at home we continued with the opening of presents and had a small celebratory high tea. Finally, with a few presents still unopened, The Boy agreed without hesitation to go to bed when DD asked if he was ready.

DD and I sat down to watch the latest Harry Potter film with tea (too tired for the pink champagne I'd bought for this very occasion) and cake. Father of The Boy curled up on an armchair playing with his DS. At least I think that it's called that, it's the brain game thing. The one that Tom Cruise's ex Aussie wife advertises on UK tele.

And now today I am busily avoiding the housework and remembering last year when I got on a plane, Miami bound..............