Dear Summer,
As you were born into the 'i- phone' age and I have absolutely no crafty ability what so ever - this blog (oh and my face book, etc) is your baby book. Please keep in mind , my love, this is also the place that Mummy has a vent after a glass of wine as talking to the dog has a distinct crazy vibe about it.
At eight and a half months you are a beautiful ball of uniqueness. You reserve your toothless old man smile for those you really like and others well....they get the 'Julie Bishop' death stare.
In the last two weeks you have started saying 'Dad' , you have started growing two teeth (finally...we had some concerns!) and you now go 'oof oof' when we ask you what the dog says. So I just have one question......
Why......when I am the one that changes the nappies, breast feeds until you have pulled my boobs so far I think they have now hit the ground, clean up so many bodily fluids I swear people think my perfume is 'de vomit' ..........why do I not get one 'Mum' ???????
Yes I only want one as after that it far to tedious - blame your sister for the overuse of the spoken word in our house.
Your sister.......
Dear Chloe,
At five your are insanely smart, well I think so, so much like your Dad. You also make me
laugh and want to hide in the foetal position more than anyone else. The photo below was when I took you girls out to lunch. That was also when you decided to show off your reading ability by reading the children's menu and the loudly declaring it was completely unsuitable and you needed something else.
Love you both x
No comments:
Post a Comment