The Certificate

Did you see the kiss curl top left? Or the cupid's bow lips?

Reuben in the garden resisting my desire for a photo op with his certificate. I tried the Jaws impersonation to divert his attention, but he insisted on dropping the certificate away just to mock me, signing "Please, please". Boys this little man is fully in CHARGE! I have to say, I really don't go for posing too much, but c'mon guys, just a wee pic with his certificate doesn't do any harm. It's rare for me to capture Reuben on the right side of his face which is unable to show expression, so it's good to see him looking so good here and i have no desire to shut out the slowly closing stoma in his throat that has saved his life and will remain like this, a little open til we feel he's completely out of the woods.

Unusually for me, I've cropped a little off the base of my Blip and I love this up close.


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Football/soccer alert:

It's coming home...

And yes, that's an England shirt he's sporting. First match is with the USA on Saturday.

Reuben and Callum may me Made in America, but they're most definitely made with British and Irish parts. I'll be the only England supporter in my family though, brothers and sisters, Dad, even though their teams, Ireland or Scotland, didn't get through, they wouldn't dare support the Lions. It intrigues me who they will be behind.

And if you want to know why I love it so much, if you feel the goose bumps watching this even if you don't have the tears 10 seconds in like me, well, then you'll understand.

My favourite memories: Des Lynam's prayer mats in The Sun. Watching Linekar and Alan Hanson with whom I've been infatuated with since I was a wee lass. How the whole* country rallies around, soars with joy when we're flying high and then falls into utter despair the next day when they fail. That collective emotion that comes from living in a relatively tiny country. Adore it. (* I'll have to exclude Mog70 here as from memory, she's not a fan).

Thinking back to the Last World Cup in '06, and my days spend propped up on a bar stool in the Kings Head pub, Santa Monica, up at 5am, glued to close to 40 matches (didn't have a TV back then either) whilst going through another round of IVF to make Reuben. That was pre-boys. I guess times have changed just a wee bit since then and my appetite for the Cup will have to be tamed, because the boys will need their diapers changed (oh and the rest). My best sporting moment: World Cup final in Paris, Brazil v France '98. Dancing along the Champs Elysees til the early hours then catching Eurostar to be back at my desk by 10am. And for my "How do you manage without a TV critics?", I'll tell you now, I'm getting cable just for the World Cup with the remainder of the games to be watched with my Dad back in London in July. God willing, please.

PS Would you ever guess that Reuben was IVF buddies at the same time as The Twinkles and Alfie. Something in common, don't you think!