Henry turned 2 five days ago. He’s now lying in bed, 30 minutes after bedtime, hollering, “Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday AGAIN!” At least he enjoyed it.
He received Mr Potato Head from a friend, and loves it. This morning I overheard, “Give me a minute, Missa Tato Head. Read it to yourself.”
Wow. Harsh. Where’d he hear that?
I’m at ten weeks, and seem to be coming out the far end of afternoon- and evening-sickness. It’s been how yukky it should be, but we’ve combined it this time with deciding we need to sell this place and buy something with a third bedroom and a toddler-friendly garden. Which, naturally, starts with decluttering- the antithesis of how we’ve lived for the nearly 6 years we’ve been here. Not easy, but such a joy!
Anyway, Dave’s still playing with all his recent photos, but here’s one from his cousin’s wedding a few weeks ago- we had to drag Henry off the dance floor!