I love the feeling you get on the last few days of a holiday, when the impending deadline of that journey home beckons and you start thinking about the life you’re about to slip back into.
Adventure awaits. Tomorrow, we’re packing up our little grey car and driving under the sea to France. We’ll spend a week with my family in a great big house and then on for seven days in a tent, just the three of us.
Yesterday we went picking. We harvested great big lung fulls of fresh air and caught sun on our faces (as well as berry juice and mud if you’re Sammy).
A year happened Sammy W! A year of you and me and your papa. Hanging out and getting the hang. You’re 13 months already. Well, more like 14.
He’s sitting well now since about six months (‘about’ – I can’t believe I’ve failed at keeping milestone dates already). Whilst he shows no interest in crawling, he’s constantly grabbing my hands to pull himself up on his feet.