Archive | Birthday RSS feed for this section

Adam is “ree”

8 Sep

My little baby is now three years old. I will probably always call him “my baby”, but he is not a baby anymore – as he likes to firmly and repeatedly point out to me whenever I call him “my baby”.

…”I NOT A BABY ANY MORE MOMMY”… and I can’t argue with him – he’s not. But he will always be my baby.

Here are some photos of the party. Can you guess what the theme was? Let’s see if I can give you a few clues:

DSC_0374 copy

Got an idea? Here’s another clue – the party packs…


Here’s the party table…

DSC_0397 low

And the cake…


Think you know….??? Here he is…..



We also had a jumping castle which seemed to be a great success! Adam and Rowan had some special game going on that involved a cheetah, a shark and lots of falling down?!


A few of Adam’s friends from school also came to the party and I think Adam was really excited to see them at his party! This little boy and Adam have loved each other since the moment they set eyes on each other. Luckily they will both be moving to the same pre-scool next year so long may the friendship flourish!


I put on my “mommy cap” and made a few goodies for the kids. I was quite impressed with myself!

(p.s. did you know that smarties are now made with non-artificial colourants? That’s why they all look a little dull. It is a bit disconcerting to see ‘natural’ colours after a lifetime of bright smarties)

handiwork copy


The Birthday Boy and his Daddy. Not forgetting Cheetah.

DSC_0442 copy

blowing out his candles…

DSC_0414 copy

 And finally, I couldn’t resist putting up this photo. I know it is a little blurry (I didn’t take it OKAY!), but I absolutely adore the expression on his face when everyone was singing happy birthday to him.



Happy Happy Happy

3 Jan

Today, I am having this for breakfast, lunch and supper… I just can’t decide which one to have first…



Okay, so I’m kidding.

But I could. If I really, really wanted to. I may just gargle with some campagne and wash it down with a lindt chocolate.

But that’s just me.

Why I can’t stick to New Years Resolutions

3 Jan

I have finally figured it out.

First there’s Christmas (yes, dammit, the Xmas blog is still coming. Hou jou bek). Then there’s New Year. And that’s the way it should be. Our benevolent universe always provides us with a wonderful balance.

Just as you’re getting over Christmas, with all it’s gluttonous, festive excesses, along comes the new year with its flirtatious, let’s-do-it-one-more-time-for-the-hell-of-it cheer. And you go along with the party and the fun and, for one last time, the over-indulgent excesses. Why? Because tomorrow is a new year, a clean slate, and you will be good. and pure. and indulgent free. The universe is truly wise and loving.

Except in my case. For me? … well, let’s just say, the universe tweaked the plan a little. You see, on the 10th day of Christmas, instead of 10 lords-a-leaping, the universe slapped it’s knee and delivered me into my mother’s arms.

While the rest of the world is feeling pious (By the way, Pia means pious… can’t you just hear the universe laughing it’s head off..?) and virtuous because they have begun a new year filled with self-control and decorum… I, gaily and with wild abandon, head on into another festive excess. New Years Resolutions never stood a chance with me. No wonder I never lost weight or became fit. No wonder my house is a disaster zone. I not even sure that I know how to spell organised. Organized?

Champagne and orange juice for breakfast. Cake for brunch. Divine Chardonnay for lunch. Pate and prawn toast to nibble on. The word “nibble” is used with reckless poetic license. More Divine Wine (Starting to lose track of the cultivar…). Some more cake for pudding. Christmas pudding and custard for desert (the cake was just the starter-desert). More wine. I think. And then “leftovers” for supper with more Divine Wine. Think it was red? And not forgetting… more pudding!!!

New Years Resolutions? … (drum roll for diabolical laugh) A-HA-HA-HA!!!

As soon as I can roll off my couch I promise I’ll look for my diary under all the ripped wrapping paper.

Well, tomorrow then.


%d bloggers like this: