Blues. Morrison Style

If your baby isn't as cute as this, you may as well chuck your baby in the bin.



Unpacking Stuff Is The Best!

The new couch was entombed in nine thousand metres of foam and plastic. Mo was adamant he could help.  Surely not, we thought? How could he possibly help?  Ah. Touche! Never thought of that, Tiny Man.


Morrison Flynn remains, THE most contrary child on the planet. 

Mo, you seem parched, come have a drink?
But you've been in the desert for nine days...
Ok, fine. Don't have one.
Drink?! Peeeth?

Eh, at least we've beaten manners into the boy. He's obsessed with puppies and babies.  Will lose quite a bit of his mind if he sees either. Stand back if she sees both! He's got his system and he sticks to it. A grabby second child. Demands, yells, gets attention.  Is cuter than a packet of ducklings in sugar syrup which is why we've let him retain all four limbs.  He has a SOLID bedtime routine and quite frankly, you're getting killed if you deviate from the script. Killed in the face!

He's got his posse.  They're a tight bunch, been together since he was born, mostly. Uppy is the new guy on the block.  He's a rhinoceros from our recent Zoo expedition. He doesn't say much.  Ted's been around for YONKS!  Ted belonged to his great grandma, my Nana.  A Saint's supporter but he's not an asshole about it. And of course, Ox. Ox has been around since Day Uno. Ox has a great sense of humour or timing or something cause he quite often makes Mo giggle.  Bedtime involved these three guys, two tea-towels, some milk and an episode of Creepy Guy. Don't deviate.  Remember the killy-face-thing I warned you about? It will happen.


During Comedy Fest I had an excuse to go to RRR to do a couple of radio interviews (not about panel beating or macramé contrary to popular opinion) and on one occasion I had to take Mo with me.

Sure, give him some headphones and a dead mic, he'll be fine.

Or no, you're right. He'll yammer all the way through it. He'll press buttons. grab mics, activate a dolphin sound effect on my iPhone and what else - oh yeah, yammer yammer yammer!  Funny. Little. Maggot.

He still doesn't talk anywhere near as much as his big brother did/does/is still doing but he's making his mark. We've always called Spike, Demando. But Ben has dubbed Mo, Insisto.  Insisto Indeedy!

Mo's Mother xxx                                                   Mo occasionaly tweets, here



Our April Fools baby, turns two.

Someone got him a piano. And a truck. And some bubbles...

We had Greeny-Blue Velvet Cake. It's REALLY messy!
(It's gonna be worse tomorrow. BAGS not changing the first nappy!)

He's much louder than he was, over there in 2009.

Stronger than he was in the middle there in 2010.

It's 2011 now and you're ALL hair and spitfire personality!

Happy birthday Mo. Our darling, contrary boy.

LOTS of love,

Mumma, Gaggy and Piiiike?! xxooxx


A Morrison Comparison

We're not saying our baby son looks like a 72 year old physicist, or that he escaped Nazi Germany in 1933.

Nor are we saying he will invent the nuclear bomb (but he has written a couple of letters to President Roosevelt). We're fairly sure Morrison will not work in the patent office in Bern.  We're also fairly confident that although he does articulate the principles of relativity he has been pipped at the post, as it were, by his doppelganger. We're also hopeful that he will not marry twice (one of those times, to his cousin) and father three or four children. However, our Mo has published more than 300 scientific papers along with over 150 non-scientific works, and received honorary doctorate degrees in science, medicine and philosophy from many European and American universities.  What's your not-quite-two-year-old done today?

No pressure, son.

Mumma and Daddy xo

(It is the 60th anniversary of that famous photo of Einstein. He would have been 132. Mazel tov, old man, Mazel tov!)


I am...






Violently allergic to mozzie bites.







Excellent at dinking. 




Totally ace at multi-tasking.







The boss of not warning before leaping!






A top notch slobber faced pasher!







Succinct when getting my point across.





And can totally rock the undies and nappy look when I've "accidentally" fallen in the pool on the way OUT - late for a date.


Mo is funny, LOUD, and a shocking mimic! He's determined, obnoxious, taller than average and sweeter than honey. He still takes a nap mid morning, if you time it right.  If you don't then kiss goodbye the two seconds you were going to have to yourself.

He loooooves his big brother and greets Daddy like a recovering amnesiac every night. He's a smooch hound, a flirt and a yabbering stack of yum!

He's a linguist. The inventor of his own language that we've all had to adapt to!

"Eee Guy" - Creepy Guy AKA I'd like to watch, In The Night Garden please mother.

"Piiike" - Spike, he's my brother.

"Gaggy" - AKA Daddy.

"Muuuummy!" It's the same in both languages. Who knew?!

"Peeeth?" - Please, I asked nicely now give it to me.

"Ba-boos" - Bubbles. Furnish me with the bubble solution and the blower please, woman.

"Ghee!" - There's shit in my dacks, remove it immediately! 

Not to be confused with, "Ghee" - Clarified butter often used in Indian cooking.

 And mostly, he is great at pulling focus. How could you not. All curls and that adorable face.

You stand no chance. You face, Our Mo!


 Mo's Maaaaa xo