It leaves you joyful but saddened.
The Tiny Tyrant is our last baby. I’m due to be spayed in less than 2 months.
It was always the plan. I’m happy with my children. My family is complete. I cannot hack being pregnant – I’m basically ill and stressed out for 40 weeks. TT nearly killed me by the end of pregnancy with her.
And with my medical issues I’m bloody lucky to have one child, let alone my perfect pigeon pair.
But she’s two in a week.
And she’s growing so fast.
Things she is now doing:
- She’s now consistently switching from mummy to mum and from daddy to dad.
- She’s saying “fank” instead of “ta”
- “Duddle” is being replaced with “hug”
- The question “what do we say?” is most often met with “peeeees”
- Talking in proper sentences – “I hurt it my finger”
- Attempting to count to 10 – she’s mostly reliable up to 5 already.
- Opinions – oh the opinions π¬π¬π¬π¬
- Her birthday present is a bed.
- When daddy said night night to her just now, she immediately began fake snoring ππ€£ππ€£ππ€£ππ€£
Whilst I am so so proud of her, and of my boy too, I’m sad.
I won’t ever know another baby. I won’t see the firsts again.
I know I am incredibly lucky I am blessed, and believe me I don’t take it for granted. I’m just nostalgic tonight.
So – here are my babies as babies πππ