I'm giggling away, I've just done something completely mental. As you know, Mum's coming to visit me for a month after the birth. And I decided that it's a shame she's never been to Sydney (seems a shame not to see it) and she's a big opera fan. So I've booked her a seat at a matinee performance of Marriage of Figaro, and flights there and back in a day. I plan to go too, but not to the opera (I figure other patrons will protest at a month old screaming through it!!!) and I'll sit by the harbour with Baby G. The baby will need to do long haul flights soon enough, and a trip to Sydney from Melbourne can be our first (no luggage) test. It might be a complete and utter disaster, but might as well have disasters whilst Mum is about to help me! She'll have a fit, she hates surprises, and can't get her head round how easy it is to fly in Australia, she thinks it's always like that monstrousity (sp?) Heathrow where you need three hours to check in for an internal flight.

..... but finally my giraffe seems to be creeping out tenatively from underneath that damn tree!