Romeo, Beaumeo

This morning Beau woke up earlier than usual and Tim and I tried in vain to get him to snuggle with us in bed. He didn't even last one minute before seeking out something more exciting to occupy himself with. He left our room and after a few bangs and crashes down the hall returned a few minutes later with his sunglasses on, carrying a bongo drum, tambourine and ukulele. He then proceeded to put on Tim's shoes and set up his one man band next to the bed.

He'd come to serenade us!

Here's a photo I took on the iPad.

Champagne - a new definition

Playing with Jasmine's new Strawberry Shortcake and Polly Pocket toys this afternoon...

Jasmine (pretending to be Strawberry Shortcake):
Do you know my hair smells like strawberries, Polly Pocket?

Me (pretending to be Polly Pocket):
Mmmm, you smell delicious, Strawberry Shortcake. I don't think my hair smells.

J (SS): Yes it does! (big sniff) Your hair smells like champagne!

M (PP): Champagne?! What does that smell like?!

J (SS): It's when you bump your head really hard and then it gets fire in it. And then, uh, I don't know the rest of the bits. And then you feel sad.

Hmmm... sounds like Polly Pocket has a champagne hangover to me!

Fiji!

It's taken me the best part of the last two weeks to recover from Fiji. And not in a fun, re-live the awesomeness of the holiday by telling everyone about it whilst showing off my tan kind of way. More in a food poisoning labour-pain stomach cramps moaning on the toilet for 6 days with blood and fish-pond algae looking diarrhoea pouring out of me every 15 minutes kind of way. The upside of which is that I can now spell diarrhoea without using spell check and have a bikini-ready body... albeit 2 weeks too late.

If you're still reading now I've thoroughly revolted you with the aftermath, here are some snaps from our trip. Which was awesome. As was my tan. Two weeks ago.