Birthdays.

Birthdays are one of those nostalgic kind of times.

Last week Our Archer had his first birthday. The day itself was casual - the poor little monster wasn't well, but as a bonus this allowed The Boy to stay home from work with a doctor's certificate. 

I am only now reminded at how an entire year has gone by and I still haven't sat myself down to quietly admire the miracle that is a newborn baby. I told myself every week that I would take the time, maybe have a long soak in the bath, and re-live the whole process in my head. I'm sure I'll get around to it, maybe in another ten or fifteen years.

The weekend that followed turned me into a "real mum." I baked the cake, hung the decorations and invited other pint sized human beings for an afternoon in the ball pit.

I'm not a baker, or a very organised hostess, but I did enjoy the decorations and my first attempt at playing with fondant. 

Kids - a constant excuse to be creative.