Bub is exactly 26 weeks old today and has celebrated her half year in style  by crawling across the living room floor.  I didn’t expect her to grow up this fast. Every day she’s making leaps and bounds, becoming  more and more independent.

I wish, sometimes, that I could have those early weeks back. I struggled so badly with breastfeeding that I resented every snuggly feed. I wish I’d switched to formula sooner so I could have enjoyed all those cuddles. Now, even though I get a nice drooly cheek when I say,’kisses for Mummy’, Bub won’t stay still long enough for me to hold her for longer than a few seconds.

She wakes in the night still, but instead of crying she just lies on her back making fart noises until we go to her. It’s hard to be mad about that. The girl has also learned that if she smiles as we put her into the cot, neither of us can resist picking her up again to snuggle. It’s a good lesson. Smiles and comedy get you further than tears. That’s what I tell myself anyway.

At the moment she’s sat between my feet making lizard noises. Life is pretty sweet.

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