My favourite Photograph.

I'm no photographer. Despite spending a not insubstantial amount on a decent DSLR Camera last year, I'm not especially creative with it. I bought it to catalogue the next few years worth of memories of my child, and hopefully children. I haven't even attempted a sunset yet.

My favourite photograph is not a photograph I have taken myself. It was taken by my Mother in law who does know her way around a Camera. She specialises in Still Life mostly, but this photograph is just lovely and I have featured it in a previous post. I love it for sentimental reasons. It's my soppy Ginger Dog being introduced to my newborn son for the first time when he was a day old. Luckily, she was there to capture it.

This post is for week 31 of The Gallery. The prompt is My Favourite Photograph. I love it, look at his wrinkles.

Here come the Girls.

The theme for last weeks Gallery, yes I did say last weeks, was Here come the Girls. I was going to give it a miss because I have no Daughters and my usual crisis of confidence when it comes to photos that feature little old me. Add to that the fact that most photographs of my friends and I, past and present normally involve copious amounts of alcohol and I'm either gurning or sporting those rather lovely Red Wine Teeth.

Anyhoo. I managed to unearth some half decent photos of my Hen weekend in Edinburgh. Unlike most Hen weekends, it was a fairly civilised affair. Yes, there was drinking and dancing involved, but I refused point blank to wear a veil adorned with rubber penises and L plates. It was just a really lovely weekend away with eight of my favourite friends.

I'd have liked to share a group photo of us all, but sadly I no longer see a couple of them.

See, civilised. Posh hotels and Champagne. Not a stripper dressed as a Policeman in sight. Actually, I wouldn't have objected to that.........................

The thin Blue (well, Pink actually) line.

So. I'm Pregnant. There I said it (typed it). It's been ten weeks since I saw the second Pink line on the wee wee stick. Ten weeks since my boobs suddenly developed a life of their own and balooned two whole cup sizes. Ten weeks since I could open the Fridge door, or dispose of the contents of the Little Princes potty without barfing.

I'm pleased as punch and shitting myself at the same time. I found out my last pregnancy had ended at my twelve week scan, so as you can imagine, I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation as the date for my Nuchal scan approached this time. To make matters worse, the 'early' scan my GP promised me didn't actually happen and my Nuchal scan was booked for my thirteenth week, thus prolonging the agony.

Anyway. I'm fourteen weeks today. I've had my scan and my due date has been confirmed as the Second of April 2011. Exactly six months from today. Even better, I saw a little person with all of its important bits intact. I swear she/he even waved at me at one point.

Do you want to see? Of course you do.

Here She/He is. My little Pixie. Fingers, Toes and Freckles crossed and all being well, I'll get my Spring baby.

A Smile.

I've been going over all of my photographs recently on a nostalgia trip. I still can't believe that my little Prince is three now. It doesn't seem possible. Anyway, I've picked these two photographs to share, to illustrate quite how much he has changed. My boy and two very different smiles.

This was taken not long after he first started smiling. It's one of my absolute favourites. I could just eat him.

This was taken a few weeks ago at his third birthday party. The baby is now a big boy. I could still eat him.

This post was written for week 28 of Tara Cains Gallery. The prompt this week was A Smile. Don't forget to click the link and check out all of the other entries.

A celebration.

The theme for week 27 of Tara Cains Gallery is A Celebration. I like this theme. Mostly because I haven't had to think too hard about it. This theme has endless possibilities. We generally photograph anything that involves a celebration, Weddings; a new baby; Birthdays; Graduations.......

Not terribly original, but I've gone for the former.  It's one of the few occasions in my life where there exist some semi-decent photographs of me (as you would hope from a professional photographer) and well, it was the happiest day of my life eclipsed only by the birth of my Little Prince. I aint sharing photos of that.

I love these photos because they are the best photos I have of me with my lovely Mum and Dad. The first one is of My Dad and I just as we're about to go into the Church. I love the proud look on his face. The second is of my Mum giving me a hug just as we emerged from the Church after the ceremony. Aside from a couple of lovely shots of me and Mr Nudie, these are my favourite photos of that day.

The one about the Peacock........

One of our Dogs has a leaky dinkle, bless him. It's a bit gross (sorry if this is too much information) but he has a milky discharge coming out of it most of the time *gags* and the worst thing is that when he lies on the (leather) sofa, he leaves little white patches. Mr Nudie and I have discussed this on occasion and it's possible that the Little Prince has been within earshot during these discussions. It's also possible he may (read definately did) have heard us describe the poor creatures affliction as a 'leaky cock'. 

Mr Nudie and the boy were in his room earlier talking about the animals on the wall (he has a Noahs Ark mural). LP was cleverly pointing out all the animals and telling Mr Nudie what they were, Tiger, Elephant, Monkeys etc. Mr N points to the most intricate painting on the wall and says 'What's this beautiful Bird called?'  LP looks none the wiser. Mr N continues 'This is a Peacock.......', he's interrupted by a little voice 'No Daddy, that not Hecock. Hecock on sofa'.........................

Ooops.

Back to school.

This post is for week 26 of Tara Cains Gallery. The prompt this week is Back to School. Well, my Little Prince doesn't go to school yet, he's only three. I thought instead I'd treat you to this gem I found in my archives. This is my very first school photograph taken when I was just five. We lived in Gibralter and I had just started in reception at the English School rather originally named St Georges. I have very happy memories of that year. Abba were still big news back then (yes I realise I'm showing my age, shaddup) and my lovely teacher looked like Agnetha (the Blonde one). I loved her.

There you go. Quite cute wasn't I...............