#1 My happy, gorgeous boy. Playing in Nanny’s garden with Polly the dog. ‘I really do want a dog, mummy. I’d like a Labrador’. I know, I know. Maybe one day, baby. You certainly deserve one.
#2 ‘Higher, higher, higher!’. You are truly, truly reckless but my goodness, you have moments of complete gentleness. Today I had a moment. There were tears and you were checking I was OK. I told you I was fine, that it was nothing for you to worry about. ‘But of course I have to worry; you’re my Mummy’. Age 3. Just.
Phew! I made it. 52 weeks. I’m a teeny, tiny, weeny bit proud of myself. Goodbye 2013 – you’ve been, in many ways, pretty good.
[The 52 Project, hosted by Che & Fidel]