(Non-)Christening(s) - by Theo

Kate and I have on several occasions had idle conversations about which of our friends and relatives we would ask to be godparents to Rosie, weighing up the pros and cons of asking family members vs friends, those resident nearby to those further away, and so on. I guess it's a good thing that we don't so much have a shortlist of potential candidates as a very, very long one. All this, of course, presupposes that we will actually have a christening for Rosie, something which is by no means certain.

Last weekend once again raised the topic in our minds as we attended two very different baby-related events. Firstly, on Saturday, we headed over the Second Severn Crossing to Wales, and the haven from the world that is Rocks Cottage, the home of the Bullock clan. It was to be the introduction of the latest member of that illustrious family, baby Jessica, to the wider world. Karri, Jessica's mum, hadn't wanted to do a Christening, but at the same time had wanted to have some kind of event for her, and so a summer garden party was the solution.

Embarrassingly however Kate and I forgot that Karri had told us this back in July; we simply thought the weekend get to together was because Poppy (Jessica's aunt and my best woman) was coming back from Brussels for the weekend. Of course if we'd managed to rub our sleep-scrambled brain cells together we might have wondered why Poppy was coming back that particular weekend.

As ever, we had a lovely time. Su, Allan, Amy and Karri put on a fabulous spread (Poppy just wafted around really), while eldest Bullock grandchild Harii supervised the various visiting children and Rosie commandeered first the baby walker then the hammock.

The following day - Sunday - saw us up very early thanks to Rosie, although this was just as well as we had a Christening to get to at 9.45am. Lateness definitely wasn't on the cards as Kate was to be named a Godmother to Liz and Al's cheerful little boy Damian Beren. A cranky Rosie was taken for a brisk nap around St Andrews park, then we snuck into the back of St Bart's church for the last 10 minute of a very modern and very child-friendly service, that included bubbles for the kids and a rubber duck in the font.

Kate's new Godchild Damian was angelically behaved, both in the church and back at Liz and Al's for the Christening party. Rosie also enjoyed herself, amazingly not being too overwhelmed by the mass of new people as Kate and I tried to engage in a whirl of catch-up with old friends before we headed down to Cornwall (see next blog).

Rosie chomped her way through a veggie sausage, then was treated to one of S's outstanding cakes before deciding to spill the whole of tub of bubble-blowing fluid down Mummy's legs. Still, we all had a great time, and the weekend has got us thinking again about what, if anything, to do for Rosie in terms of socio-cultural quasi-superstituous naming-ritual(s).