As I slowly struggle to get mini-hd in more of a routine so I can tweak her day to suit mine, I'm left wondering what on earth I did with my time before she came along.

To help my snoring wonder go to sleep, I've taken to reading a page from my current read outloud to her each evening. And whilst many may think that she doesn't look like me, she certainly has my sense of humour and outlook on life, as I had to wrestle my MBIAT book back tonight.

Plus if I read to her in a singsong voice, it helps the little cherub on her way to slumberland, as so, all the while instructing my eikle one, as I like to think of it as starting her education early. After all, it is a guide... .

Currently at page 110, she has taken to chewing pages which she finds especially funny, her favourite currently being pg47. Not something I was especially please to find out as I may have to buy another copy. In fact, I may even have to raid the kitty to pay for it.

After all, whats mine is mine...

I would like to beg that I would have blogged before now, however mini-hd has gone through what one can only class as a growth spurt. From a tiny curled up thing, she now looks like a 4 month old. Going from this:

to this:

Which is apt as she'll be 16 weeks from 0330 tomorrow morning. He's the only man I know that can get a 12 o'clock shadow 45 minutes after he has shaved.

And yes - Girlpants had already shaved that morning.

Christmas was large but fun - 11 people in total at ours with Girlpants and myself cooking from scratch whilst trying to entertain the smallest member of the clan. Although I didn't manage to get the present I wanted for Gilrpnats - a shotgun license as apparently being a new dad isn't a good enough reason for Devon & Cornwall Constabulary and have a word with yourself missy, so a bumper pack of Futurama had to suffice. Mini-hd got a stocking stuffed with rubber ducks and Larry the Lion in it, whilst family were on strict instructions for no big presents. So when Uncle Toerag (Girlpants brother) turned up with a hughmongous dead muppet, it didn't go down especially well to the point where Girlants and I are considering sending him a squirrel army in the post for his next annual celebration of birth.

New Years was the tradiationally watching of Hootananny on the BEEB, whilst mini-hd snored so that the moses basket rippled with the soundwaves and Girlpants tried to catch up on work, whilst youngsters on the street outside let off fireworks.

So happy new 2009 everyone! it's somewhat belated for festive wishes but I do hope that you all are rested, with  I hope that you all have a wonderful new year filled with mucho joy, happiness and high spirits. Mines a gin!

Marshmallows and booze.

Who would have thought ever the twain should meet or cause tailbacks?

The cold has seeped back into the west country and with it, the coughs and sniffles (which means ladies and gents, that once more Girlpants has got man flu and he and mini-hd have been playing ping pong giving it to each other) so it is a time to wrap up warm.

I know - a ridiculous outfit but I couldn't resist!

With the cold snap has come the realisation that there is just over a month to Christmas. And I am not prepared. My cards are not done, not presents have been bought however the goose is in the freezer. If I get a moment to use my laptop, then my first thought is to blog and the next is to maybe peruse Amazon in the vain hope that they haven't sold out of the pressies that I need to buy. I had hoped to write this entry at 4am this morning after getting mini-hd winded and waiting for her to settle, but that never happened. Her settling that is. Poor little mite finds it hard to breathe though her snotty nose which also affects feeding. And meanwhile, Girlpants has been languishing upstairs in bed, hoping for some of the meagre sympathy that I used to bestow on him. Which I did as I held his nose whilst pouring a lemsip down his throat.

Well - it works with giving medicine to the cats.

There's one good thing that's come out of the recent furore of Brand and Ross leaving messages on Andrew Sach's mobile. It took the prime storyline away from the world recession to the moral outrage of thousands after they logged on and listened to the radio broadcast a week after the event to then email in complaints. The joys of multimedia and youtube...

Whilst the phonecalls were both infantile and stupid, and more importantly should not have been broadcast as the entire thing was pre-recorded, only two people complained on the day. One week on plus tabloid coverage later, there were over 30,000 compplaints, two investigations and mention in the Commons. Ahh - the age of mass hysteria.

Whilst this all was uncalled for and was IMHO blown out of proportion, the two have apoligised, one has resigned from the BEEB whilst the other is suspended for 12 weeks without pay, setting Jonathon Ross back over 1million, it did break the gloom and doom of the recent news broadcasts. And on a personal note, the doom and gloom of nappies and sleepless nights have been broken by my daughters first smile. And once she popped a smile, she now really can't stop.

The minor disruption in our life is currently taking over with sleepless nights and projectile vomit, whilst I've lost my ability to get ready and be out of the house before 11 in the morning. How crud is that? But thank God Sky is currently rerunning Bones and Stargate in the morning.

Like others, I've fallen by the wayside when is comes to blogging, which admittedly has happened too often for my own personal liking. What with finances, clingy whinging child, house guests and trying to keep ahead of householdy stuff, time has flown away. And I'm left thinking what on earth did I do with my time before and morepertainent, what on earth is happening to my time now?

I'm still not allowed to drive and although I have popped to the shops, walked around the park and have been into town a couple of times, so it's not like I'm going out much. Occassionally, I'll sleep in the afternoon when mini-hd is sleeping just to catch up, but I just can not see where the days go. I actually managed to sweep the floors today as I couldn't tell the difference between the tumbleweeds of fur or the cats themselves. I even had time to wash my hair this morning and am now considering cutting my long tresses off to save time on brushing it.

Although then, Joe Bloggs on the street may confuse both my daughter and myself for boys. Were it not for my impressive rack that is, which my daughter tends to cuddle and conceal for both my dignity and her own gluttony...

It would come as no surprise that I've decided to postpone my Masters in Forensics until entry September 2009. Not because of mini-hd, but more due to the sheer fear of the world economy.

It's all doom and gloom on the news at the moment. There doesn't seem to be much joy in the world, as mortgages and homes are under threat, banks are folding and the gamblers that work in the City and Stock Exchange, despite their big payouts each year are now scrabbling to save whats left of their jobs and finances. And it's not just on the news any more - the pinch is being felt at home as well.

A year ago, I could shop for the household very well on less than £50 a week. That was a deluxe budget and we did very well out of it, with oodles of wine, gin and copious amounts of meat. This week, despite the vouchers for discounted nappies and without the luxuries above, it sky rocketed over £75.

What with banks failing, Governments propping institutions up, the University having it's own cull from the ranks and file, paranoid andriod has kicked in - after all, why spend the money you've saved on your education which you can postpone for a year to allow for a provisional nestegg just in case of that rainy day. Plus that way, I can concentrate on mini-hd and know that I'm giving her my full attention as opposed to having my mind elsewhere. And vice-versa on the masters.

I'll just have to keep up my research by yelling out mistakes on the new episodes of CSI...

My god. I'm sore. That was one long cookie receipe that took 9 months to ferment. And after everything kicking in on the Wednesday afternoon, mini-hd was finally born on Saturday morning after many drugs, much pain and almost ripping the head of the last consultant who suggested that I give another four hours a try on top of 50+ odd hours I had already partook in. In fact, had it not been for the fact that I was immobolised and had an epidural in my back, I would have found the nearest hard sharp object and heaved it at his head. Thank god the senior midwife recignised me from her shift two days previous and called in the boss...

I suppose that I should now refer to mini-hd by her real name, Erika. It seems bizarre referring to baby bump as a real person with name as for a long time, she was in effect a mass of wriggles in the belly that generally kicked off around 10 at night.

A habit she has continued...

Erika finally made an appearance out of the sun roof, however without the tummy tuck or the zip that had been requested. And despite the worries and trepdiation of surgery, it has to be said that should you ever be worried about something monumental that you just can't get out of, it surely helps to have Dr McKnockOut as your anthesistist.

Believe me ladies, the eye candy helps.

Having drooled through of the surgery whilst attempting to hide it from Girlpants, it all just seems all unreal, especially as I was discharged after two days with my world hospital goods in sainsburys carrier bags at the effects of the the Christmas parties 2007 was felt in the September baby rush and clamour for beds.

The difference is the sleep or lack of. The smells. The baby vom. But my goodness, she is cute. And despite bits of me still aching and not managing to catch up on the lack of sleep from labour, how can you begrudge it all when you see my little monkey child...?

Butter wouldn't melt...