She’s is growing up. It’s very cliche, but the time seems to be moving ever so quickly. My baby is not a baby.
I know that it’s so, I have the proof, a big gaping hole in her lovely smile. Each and every time, she gives me a grin, I remember that she’s not a baby, just my baby.
A baby who made dessert tonight, by herself. It was just Jello, but she filled the kettle, boiled the water, measured, poured, stirred and waited patiently for it to set. Patiently! She is definitely not a baby.
All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth!
How are you all? How are your babies? Tell me please.