Holidays

My mother gave me a sound telling off about not updating this blog often enough. I'm pretty sure she is about to revoke my membership of the human race if I don't get my act together, so here are more holiday photos.

You're welcome.

They are always doing this. Okay, maybe not. I totally told them to kiss, but hey, they did it, so I figure I win at parenting. For once. 

Lulu on the carousel in Honfleur. As you can tell, she loved it. Isaias, on the other hand -
"I NOT go on carousel! Carousel too scawy!" This joins a long list of things that are too scawy, including watching Finding Nemo and eating meat.

After two minutes on the carousel - already feeling pretty nonchalant about it. Carousel? Whatever.

Whatcha doin, twins?

Uh.... just hanging around.  (Sorry, had to be done).

More kissing. I guess I win at facilitating grandparent / grandchild relations, too. 

The beach! It was very warm and sunny. Obviously.

 It was a gorgeous beach, actually. This was pretty much the only two minutes of sunshine we got all week, but those two minutes were lovely.

 Giving us the look that sums up one of her favourite phrases: "I BUSY!"

 so grown up.

 such a baby.

  

 So beautiful.

So unaware that he is not actually a dog.

 We went to an aquarium. There were lots of fish.

 It was freakishly, ridiculously, insanely rainy. It rained every day. Actually, it poured every day. This day, Isaias and I ran down to the beach to build sandcastles in the rain - J and Lulu were too chicken tired. We got thoroughly, utterly, bewilderingly wet. And for ten minutes, as we got soaked to the skin and I kept digging in the sand with my boy anyway, I truly felt like a good mother. 

Ten minutes after that, of course, I told him that we were going go back inside, and Nanna got these pictures. Please note how self-satisfied I look. Also - wearing this wet wool cardigan is probably the only time I have smelt worse than my two-year-old.   

 

 More kissing. I'm sensing a pattern. Also: I don't want to criticise my two-year-old's technique, but please note that I am not the one going straight in with an open mouth. French kissing indeed. 

And that's it, I think.