Loving the camera bib (and she looks pretty awesome in those hairclips from Christmas too – photos to come later)

I love the moon, with dark clouds screaming across an even darker sky. Perhaps I like the drama of it. Or perhaps it reminds me of years ago, writing on the roof with only the moon for company, pounding away on my beautiful manual typewriter. I love you macbook, but I love an antique typewriter more.

Or perhaps I just like the feeling of being alone, looking up at it. And every now and then the feeling of being alone is entirely comforting. I hate watching footage of the moon up …

I broke out in a blister like rash on Christmas day. I don’t know about you, but blistering sounds biblical to me. Today, after allergy medications didn’t seem to be making a dent I went to the hospital and was informed I had shingles. Or the plague, they weren’t overly specific.
Still given that I’ve been having deep joint pain down one side of my body for a few days it’s pleasant to know that I’m not having a stroke.
I’m trying not to think about it, because thinking about it really grosses me …

Having used pretty much all the blocks, Riley created this masterpiece.

Despite receiving more gifts than any little person could actually focus on, Riley still demonstrated a keen interest in the cat bed:

Undeterred by the fact that it was, after all, a cat bed – she laid her claim

Several times:

Ironically it is this precise behaviour that has led to the bed becoming such a big hit with the cat, who has previously turned up her nose at all forms of cat beds:

Easily the best $2 I’ve ever spent in my entire life.

I now totally get why parents always go on about their kids getting up really early on Christmas morning. It’s not the fact that you’re up before dawn, it’s that you were up past midnight with Christmas preparations. We were up until 12:30am on Christmas Eve (technically Christmas morning) and managed to whisper ‘Merry Christmas’ to one another before falling into a dreamless slumber. That is until 4:20am. When Riley woke up and couldn’t be coaxed back to sleep. 4:20am. It’s not right, people.
Our preparations looked something like this.
The Christmas …

The title is more a reference to my deep and abiding love for The Unbearable Lightness of Being, rather than a particular affinity for the song.

Fair Warning – this is going to be one of those super mooshy posts where I wax lyrical about how much I love my baby. If it’s not your kind of thing you may want to skip over it or get a bucket. But don’t say that I didn’t warn you.

I’ve had a rough week. And I suppose I haven’t been my usual Christmas-enthusiast (rabid fanatical) self. I’d hoped to be pleasantly pregnant during the festive season, but my miscarriage threw me a bit of a curve ball. Physically, I’m …