Sara Rosetta Photography

As like most 3 year olds, Cohen loves the cartoons on ABC2. One of the cartoons is Bookaboo, about a puppy who needs to read a book a day. It’s very cute.

Well one of the books stole my heart, it’s called No Matter What by Debi Gliori. As soon as the episode was over I went and ordered a copie. It is one of those books that you must have for your children, everything about it is just beautiful.

Needless to say, Cohen loves it too. Even his Daddy thought it was a very sweet book.

If you want to check out the episode, here you go.

Sara.x

Well we hit 20 weeks last week.

My belly is finally starting to look like a baby bump, out of about 100 photos (Nathan was taking them) these are the ones that made me look the biggest!

Baby started kicking at 16 weeks and hasn’t given me a break, I think I will have another very active child once its born.

We had our details scan last week and baby is all healthy. Nathan tried to find out the sex but baby wasn’t giving that secret up. We all have bets its a girl, but I still don’t want to find out myself until baby is born. Either way as long as our baby is healthy I will be happy.

Cohen is still in love with my belly. He always has to listen to baby and see that it’s ok, even if that means trying to pull my shirt up in a que at the doctors!

He reads baby stories, talk’s to it, and even tells it to ‘stop making mummy sick so she can play’.

We think he is going to make an adorable big brother.

Sara.x

With a coupe of weeks off work my idle hands got busy making a quilt.

It is my first, and an easy one at that. But it’s still nice to see it completed.

I found the tutorial for a rag quilt here to give me the basics of how to make one.

I then cut out squares from material I already had, did the same with the wadding, sandwiched them and sewed.

It took a good few days to get it done, but hand made is always worth it.

Sara.x

A friend of mine recently let me borrow one of her favourite books, Chicken Soup for the Mother’s Soul.
It is full on many heart touching stories about motherhood, be prepared with tissues if you are off to buy it.

She slipped in a note for me that the story on pg 132 was the one that made her buy the book.
So it was the first one I read.
And the first one I cried my eyes out too.
It is my favourite story in the book and one I want to share with you all.

If you are a Mumma, you may want some tissues too.

No More Oatmeal Kisses

    A young mother writes: “I know you’ve written before about the empty-nest syndrome, that lonely period after the children are grown and gone. Right now I’m up to my eyeballs in laundry and muddy boots. The baby is teething; the boys are fighting. My husband just called and said to eat without him, and I fell off my diet. Lay it on me again, will you?”

    Okay. One of these days, you’ll shout, “why don’t you kids grow up and act your age?” And they will. Or, “You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do… and don’t slam the door!” And they won’t.
    You’ll straighten up the boy’s bedroom neat and tidy: bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on their shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you’ll say out loud, “Now I want it to stay this way.” And it will.
    You’ll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn’t been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you’ll say, “Now, there’s a meal for company.” And you’ll eat it alone.
    You’ll say, “I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No demolition crews. Silence! Do you hear?” And you’ll have it.
    No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti. No more bed spreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms. No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps. No more clothespins under the sofa. No more playpens to arrange a room around.
    No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent. No more sand in the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathroom. No more iron-on patches, rubber bands for pony-tails, tight boots or wet knotted shoestrings.
    Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it. No baby-sitter for New Year’s Eve. Washing only once a week. Seeing a steak that isn’t ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
    No PTA meetings. No car pools. No blaring radios. No one washing her hair at 11 o’clock at night. Having your own roll of Scotch tape.
    Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste. No more sloppy oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No giggles in the dark. No knees to heal. No responsibility.
    Only a voice crying, “Why don’t you grow up?” and the silence echoing, “I did.”

~ Erma Bombeck

Sara.x