Rocket Man

In a belated blog, - which would not be so belated if we had not virtually squated for a week - a resounding Hurrah! and Happy Birthday Rocket Man must go out. Last week the Rock turned 1, which amongst many things is a day which makes you think of that same one year previous. And I always indended to write the birth story of my boys on their birthday, but never seemed to follow through when the time came around. Which is probably a good thing as I'm not sure the episode which let him to be escorted to emergency during Rocco's birth is one he wants on hte internet.,.

But I digress. After close to a week of being internet-less (Dear God, the other chores I got done!) has seen us finally move into our new place which has been interesting to say the least. When we moved in, th place was still being done up and we were restricted to a few rooms - which with the boys I have on my hands is something of a recipe for madness. However it was remarkably easy and had the had the added bonus of spending some time with our new Landlord Dan and his missus, Skye. Rocco and Fred fell alittle bit in love with them and is are sad to see them dash off today for their return flight to China. So we are here. We have hte keys, and we LOVE the place. It has been done so tastefully nad the house has so much character we are very much looking forward to living here. Plus Fred has a mezzanine attic level to his room which has a false bookcase leading into the roof. NEED I SAY MORE? A FALSE BOOKCASE. I may have weed a little when I saw that. Anyway - upshot is - lots of balancing all our furniture on the car roof nad walking it slowly 20m down the road, after lots of packing nad unpacking, after lots of ferrying all our worldly goods from the basement to attic - we are here. Did I mention the demanding babies and copious vacuuming? Oh. No need. Argh. But light at. tunnel. end. I think by Monday we will be 80% in order.

I digress again.

Rocco. Happy Birthday little man, Rockodile, Rocket Man, Roxanne, Radish and most often; Doodle. You are a frigging star. You took something called cuddles and turned them into CUDDLES. Each day I catch my breath a little at how i created a little dude like you. We all adore you so much and seeing you and Fred swoop eachother with the Ladybird leaves me with the silliest manic smile plastered on yout face, so that I look a little like I should be working in the Chocolate Factory. I hope you cut those two new bottom teeth soon, they are causing you (and me and Fred and Da and the neighbours at number 3) no end of grief. And congratulations on your graduation to cow's milk. I will miss the hours of steralising nad counting out formula spoons, I'm sorry about what is happening with your hair - it is dreadful. It is determined to look like a 70s porn star no matter what I do. But I adore it immensely, and when I manage to miraculously get you still enough to get scissors to your hair, I am astounded by what a few haphazards snips can do. To see the constant animation in your eyes, your nose nad your enormous, constantly-hungry mouth keeps me enthralled for hours (well, during the ad breaks of Maury anyway). Well done on getting to 1 little fella. You are a cracker.

Rocco channeling his inner Robert Pattinson.