So she's growing up. She's not really a baby any more, nearly one, nearly standing, nearly answering me back (mini tantrums have started, still funny at this stage to see this little soul throwing herself on the floor when something doesn't go her way, but experience tells me the humour will go!). And I'm left clinging to the remnants of her babyhood, watching her deep in sleep when her lips still make that rhythmic sucking, looking at those ever growing legs, still curving up into a fetal position when she lies on her back and realising that she'll all too soon be toddling around on them.
It's funny, so much of me is excited about meeting her as a toddler, listening to the sentences she starts to form, being able to communicate with her and hear how she feels and thinks about things. I can't believe that I'm about to experience all the wonderful things that I've experienced with No. 1 all over again with this little person, it's an amazing thought. But, and of course there's a but, I loose my baby, and for some reason I'm struggling with that a little right now. So I'm rather overindulging in all that is baby about her (mostly to her annoyance) and making the most of this last month before I talk about my "one year old". I must grab my camera, take some photos and say goodbye to this era, and hello to a new one. Uh Oh! here goes!