Miss K 4 days old sleeping in my arms, Me 27 years old trying to fight the urge to join her.
Of course with the loss of each old habit or phase comes new and exciting ones, each bringing its own delights or terrors, and I relish each one as it arrives, as it signifies that my baby is growing up. But there are times when I miss the days when her hands were so tiny that they made mine look man sized in comparison.
My favourite pint sized terror. AKA - the fountain head.