dear internet

I promise to update as soon as I'm no longer set to write an entry while perched on an upturned milk crate-and mercy me, I've just noticed that this milk crate setup, which is highly uncomfortable and a direct result of Daniel's first birthday party, is helping me type better, hmm. I also promise to one day update my frikkin' About page because dude is almost a year old and yet, according to the current one, I'm still waddling around and lamenting my inability to give myself a pedicure.

Also, I forgot to mention that Daniel was having a party because he is about to turn one. Also, my baby is about to turn one!! I'd cry if I wasn't enjoying watching him grow up so much.

In brief and until I get my comfy chair back, it was a hoot and while the boy has no idea about this thing called language, he's certainly proven his talents lie in being sociable. There were around twenty or thirty people crammed into my home of less than mansion like proportions at one point, it being hotter than hades outside and ruining the plan of an enjoyable outdoorsy thing, held under the new shade cloth that now covers my purpose planted, brand new and bright green lawn, and forcing us to shift it all inside. No shit, I spent more time on Friday with my hand to my forehead, wailing 'Nooo!' than I've had hot dinners. The first weather report of the day was for 36C, three hours later they'd upped the ante to 39C, then two hours after that, 41C. Forty one degrees celsius, people. Eat that people. And I think it got to even more than that at one point. So yeah, itty bitty home, indoor party, thirty people, woot! But that wasn't the point! The point was that with all these people around, Daniel was totally non plussed. He spent the afternoon happily crawling around the place on his own, checking out the gifts he'd received, meeting and greeting and doing the How Do You Do? thing, and totally sucking up all the lurve that was being sent his way by the fifteen billion guests. He was very impressive and I was very proud of him. I mean, he's not even a year old and he never fussed, never cried, took in all the flashbulbs at cake cutting time like a real pro, and all in all, had as much fun as you'd expect, not from a not yet toddler, but from someone at least twenty five times his own age and more than twice his height.

His sister, T, came along for a bit later in the day, which was fantastic. She's not quite twelve and she walked on up to the front door with only another not quite twelve year old with her for moral support. Impressive, and also a good indication that she'd like to know her brother. She and her friend stayed for about an hour and I made sure she had some time alone with Daniel. I fucked up at one point though, asing her if she wanted to hold him. She was all 'Yes please!' so I handed over the ten kilo lump o' boy, forgetting that she's a four foot nothing bit of a thing. She valiantly struggled with not dropping him until I bought a damn clue and set about sittingnher down with a chair and a lap for the whole holding the not-a-baby-anymore experience.

His father is another story, one that begins with the words 'He's such a twat.'.