Proof that I am in fact slowly but surely morphing into my mother:

• I was super-excited about today's trip to Elizabeth Farm.
• I was even super-exciteder about the mere tantalising prospect of *annual membership* to the Historic Houses Trust of NSW (as a 'concession household' no less - MrB is still officially a student)
• I poohpoohed Ms Chesty LaRue and her pouring of scorn on my plans for a super-fun family day.
• I showered and dressed myself and the twins, packed a picnic lunch (cheese rolls, apples, home-made chocolate muffins and a bottle of apple juice), cleared the kitchen and informed MrB at 9am that I was going in 5 minutes. He was playing his stupid computer games in his PJs.
  

It was a lovely day out. The girls loved running about the House - and it's fantastic that they allow that - you can sit on the chairs, lay about on the day beds, look pensively out of the french windows while writing long letters back to England. I love museums that don't have everything roped off with 'Do Not Touch' signs everywhere. And I even managed to indulge in some essential make-believe crinoline-swishing and general hoity-toity-ness. We had a nostalgic and Blyton-esque picnic in the gardens with the girls doing even more running about. It was fun. It's what holidays and parenting is all about. So not scoffing!



And we even got to visit my bestest friend Jude, and admire The Only Tree in Quakers Hill.


It's all good.


*and what's even better is that all four girls are going to their grandparents house tomorrow for four whole days!!!! And so MrB and I are going to do even more museum-ing! Oh! What exciting lives we lead....*