Toddler hood springs itself upon you like Christmas. You spend all year waiting for it and then suddenly, bam, it's been and gone.
It's with a sense of melancholic sadness that I find myself waving goodbye to my baby (who I'm sure I just gave birth to.. Right?) and saying hello to a toddler. Children are time thieves at the best of times but I'm sure when my son was 364 days old he was still firmly a baby. 24 hours later and someone seemingly turned on a switch inside of him. Suddenly, and a little too speedily for my liking, he was awoken. And a little boy was born. Out from this gorgeous baby sprung an adventurous, loving, bright and outdoorsy kinda kid. He's boisterous, strong but affectionate and so so so kissable.
I'm so amazed and proud at the beautiful developments in my son that I've hardly had time to dwell on being sad about him growing up. He's just utterly devine, even if he has decided that kicking me (with his exceedingly strong legs) while having his butt changed, is his new favourite past time.. A problem that appears to be resolved with my rendition of 'the wheels on the bus'.. He's so easily disarmed.