Falling..

Clearly, I've fallen off the face of the earth...

So sorry guys, but the past couple of weeks have been capital H, Hectic.

The honest truth is that I am slowly being buried alive under a pile of suitcases. Samsonite, 1. Lise, 0. You win luggage, YOU WIN, you horrid, back-breaking mole!

Yes, we are still, 2 months on, galivanting between our families' homes - my grandparents, my in-laws, my auntie and uncle's. They've all been so gracious and generous while we house-hunt, house-sell. To be honest, I can't quite see the light at the end of the tunnel. In fact, it's effing pitch black in here and I don't even have one of those cool forehead-miner lamp things. Dammit!

Our house goes on the market this Saturday. Papadada and I were doing a last minute frantic yard cleanup in the rain last night. On his birthday. It sucked the big one.

Yes, the big PapaD turned 31 yesterday! Hip Hip Hooray! I can't believe we're entering a new decade. He makes 31 look smokin' hot though...

In other news, Sticky Baby is getting his first haircut this afternoon! Da da Daaaaaaa! All those curls have turned into massive dreadlocks. For real, the hippies are seriously envious. Despite applying countless dollops of my $50 hair mask in at attempt to untangle the knots, those things just won't budge. My mother-in-law and I cut the evil birds nests out a few nights ago, which was a start, but now Sticky Baby is sporting a weird-ass, uneven mullet. Needless to say, it's well and truly time for the professional hairdresser to intervene.

Will post piccies of the new big-boy do asap! I'm already mourning the loss of my baby boy's sweet curly white-man 'fro. Hopefully the curls come back thicker and stronger, like Samson from the bible or something. Otherwise, we better pray that he suits the short-back-and-sides style...

In memory of the 'fro....Krusty the Clown meets nutty professor.

And yes, that is another one of Papadada's dirt bikes....