Georgie has entered one of those adorable, hilarious phases of toddlerhood. These times are brief, glorious. She runs full pelt for cuddles. Calls 'bye' and 'pwees' and 'dates?' in her squeaky chipmunk voice. Blows kisses. Dances like Bez from the Happy Mondays. Stamps her foot and says 'No!' Laughs, musically, and wonderfully, all the time. Wants to be part of everything. 'I too! I too!'
I've been around the block enough times now to know that it is Only A Phase, and will quite soon be followed by a stage of whining or frustration or tantrums. At the same age, Ivy took to banging her head on the floor in anger, and Ted insisted on being called Trixie-Jeff and shouted 'NO!' in answer to every question.
While they last, these seasons are just so sweet. I love this baby so much. It is enough to make ones ovaries quiver.
Fortunately (unfortunately?) our last venture down the pregnancy path ended with my limping towards the finish line like a marathon runner in lactic breakdown. Also, if I suggested another baby to Keith, he might...just...