She appeared in the world fast, very fast, as I have previously documented! We had a tough start it's fair to say. She had colic, reflux and couldn't breastfeed. Until she turned three months old, I don't remember sleeping a great deal. In fact, I don't remember a lot about anything! But we passed this phase. I accepted I couldn't feed her myself (eventually) and we moved on together. We got into a good routine. She slept. A lot. She grew, and ate, and grew, and ate. Podgy is what my Grandma called her! The big brother is a stick, a long, lounging, athletic stick. The kind of boy who will never, ever put on weight.
The poor girl has put up with a lot. She was hit with a tractor the week we brought her home (by her
loving rough older brother. She has learnt how to stand up for herself. Indeed, maybe she has done this too well.
Tantrums are occurring. The kind where she lies on the floor screaming and kicking her feet. Seriously? I didn't expect this yet. Her older brother is calm, placid, laid back and rarely pushes himself (unless he has too). She could not be more different.
She adores her brother. Everything he does she wants to do. Even when he clouts her, after screaming for a moment, she looks lovingly at him.
Dancing is one of the cutest things she does. Walking is something she could do, but doesn't. Crawling happens fast. Very fast. Especially when she has a cat to chase, which is pretty often.
My daughter. The one year old. Born at 4.44am on the 1st of March.