Sadly, Paul's maternal Grandmother, Iris 'Stevie' Hodges died on 28 September, aged 94. If you didn't have the pleasure of meeting her, but you did attend our wedding, you may remember the poem that she wrote and recited (by heart) about our engagement in Venice. The fact that she stood up in front of hundred people and did that at the ripe old age of 91 is very much indicative of the type of person that she was. She was a special and talented lady who we miss very much.
We visited Yorkshire at the end of August and Stevie got to meet her Great Granddaughter for the second time. It was lovely seeing them together. I know that Lola is a sociable baby who gets on with pretty much everyone, but occasionally you'll see her really connect with people and she did just that with her Great Grandma. She kept touching her face and wanted to be held by her, which broke my heart as Stevie wasn't quite strong enough at this stage.
I have some brilliant memories of my Great Nana Smith, but as I was only about two when she died, it's unlikely that they're real ones. They've probably been created by the stories and photographs, but they're just as good as the real thing. We're going to make damn sure that Lola grows up with similar memories.
Lola was born six months ago today. This feels like a massive milestone, which has sneaked up on us without any warning whatsoever. In some ways, it feels like only yesterday that she came into (and rocked) our world and in some it feels like six years.
She was born by emergency Cesarean section and when it became apparent towards the latter part of the labour that this was going to be the delivery method, I panicked that I wouldn't be able bond as well with our baby, as if he/she'd been born via the normal route. However, I had absolutely nothing to worry about. Even though I only saw her for a few moments after she was born (she was taken back to the ward with her Dad and the midwife while I was stitched up and sent to recovery) I was in a state of euphoria, and so desperate to be with her again. We got down to the maternity ward at about midnight and I spent the whole night clutching hold of her tightly, kissing every inch of her face, smelling her amazing hair (or head, or whatever that intoxicating baby smell is) and feeling so utterly grateful for the fact that she was in our lives. I didn't sleep a wink, but didn't care. I felt so, so lucky to have fallen so hopelessly in love with her, so quickly.
Here's some footage of her lying in bed with me in the maternity wing at Lewisham hopsital, the day after she was born.
I remember thinking that this was the first day of the rest of our lives and that everything was going change. I was right.
And here she is, six months on. Eating breakfast and selecting pieces of banana with that same look of determination which she gets when she's pulling at Paul's chest hairs when she comes into bed with us in the morning. I apologise in advance for the inappropriate bodily function. We still have a thing or two to teach her about table manners.
It's something that all parents say - but the time passes so bloody quickly, it's frightening. I've found myself constantly thinking 'this age is the best, I don't want her to get any bigger' and then enjoying the next phase even more. But this one (six months) is particularly brilliant. Lola is eating now (she's devoured every fruit and vegetable we've put in front of her - along with a few other bits), she's sitting pretty well and is crawling (albeit backwards and commando style).
She's a really, really good little girl (even if we do say so ourselves) and is so incredibly happy. We don't call her smile factory for nothing. Such is her sociable nature that she creates little fan clubs wherever she goes - from the Sainsburys in Sydenham to the florist on Lordship Lane in Dulwich.
Don't get me wrong, we've had our fair share of difficult times, such is the challenging and frustrating nature of child-rearing, but they (almost) pale into insignificance next to the good times.
Happy six month birthday sweetheart. We love you like crazy.
OK, so I promise this isn't just an excuse to post pictures of this man
Well, maybe it is.
Just a little bit.
I'll stop now. I promise. Right after this
Tonight I was lucky enough to join my sister and some of her friends at the Courtyard Theatre in Stratford Upon Avon for Gregory Doran's Hamlet. You've more than likely seen the rave reviews, so I'll just confirm that it was brilliant. This is the third RSC production I've seen of Hamlet (previously saw Kenneth Branagh and Ralph Fiennes, the latter was fantastic) and by far, the best yet. David Tennant's preformance was excellent - as was Patrick Stewart's - and the rest of the cast for that matter.
I couldn't quite believe my luck when we got to our seats. Row B in the stalls. The courtyard has an apron stage. We could have literally reached out and touched the cast. If the mood had taken us. Ahem.
I'm depserate to see the show again in London, but just don't think I can stretch to the £1,200 cost for a pair of tickets on ebay. Sigh...
I hadn't really thought through the fact that I was going to be away from my daughter for 10 hours, three hours from home, until I was about to leave the house. Considering the fact I've only been out for an evening before and never further away than central London, this felt like quite a big deal.
However, 15 minutes into the journey I was really enjoying being alone, despite the jammed Friday traffic. 3 hours alone in a car, with nothing but music for company (an 80s Greatist Hits compilation to be precise) was a brilliant way to spend an afternoon. Great prelude to an even better evening.
I've just reached the end (I hope) of three days of hell. At five months and three quarters Lola's cut her two (bottom) front teeth and has not been a happy bunny. The poor little sweetheart has been mega frustrated, in terrible pain and constantly pulling at her mouth. Whenever she teeths, which she's done a few times (without any teeth actually appearing) over the past few months, I fear that she's gone through a personality change and is turning into a monster child.
Fingers crossed we'll be OK from here on in. That is until the next ones start coming through ...
I married Mr Rushforth and became Mrs de Cozar Rushforth three whole years ago today. It was the most amazing day ever (coming in jointly with Lola's birthday) and I would give my left arm to do it all again.
Here we are at Allerton Castle, about to say our vows
and here we are today, with the new addition to our clan, Miss Lola Ines de Cozar Rushforth.
I have some brilliant memories of my Great Nana Smith, but as I was only about two when she died, it's unlikely that they're real ones. They've probably been created by the stories and photographs, but they're just as good as the real thing. We're going to make damn sure that Lola grows up with similar memories.
