How long is too long?

It's been so long since my last blog I actually felt a bit of a fraud writing one, since my last confession we've clocked up several milestones, my beautiful little monster has celebrated her first birthday (we had a little tea party with a squidgy chocolate cake made by nana and played pass the parcel to jazz versions of humpty dumpty whilst tearing off dozens of layers of newspaper methodically wrapped by grandad, which was possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen) Her nanas bought her a pink trike, which comes complete with a little phone attached, there is no mistaking the start of her Liverpool accent when you hear her shout hiiiiiiiieeeeeeeer into the receiver! 



We also ventured on our first family holiday abroad,  which excess baggage aside went without a hitch, just remind me never to go on a flight longer than 4hrs until  she is a little older, her overtired screams whilst boarding the plane home made us feel like the family from hell, they only lasted until the plane took off, when I swear the other passengers breathed a collective sigh of relief, but while my long limbed child slept very comfortably stretched across her own seat plus half of ours, and I can sleep on a washing line, plus had commandeered all of the remaining scarves and blankets plus Tilly's travel pillow, her daddy attempted to get some shut eye, shivering from the aircon and to my amusement attempting to use a minature ooopsydaisy doll as a pillow, only for his little princess would he make such sacrifices!



In the past couple of months I've seen my little baba morph into a little girl before my eyes, her inquisitive nature both fascinates and makes me howl with laughter, her new favourite words are what's a? (what's that?) and who's a? (who is that?) and nothing and no one is safe from the finger (she points at everyone, which I know is bad manners but isn't it a little early to introduce social etiquette?) Her total lack of inhibition is hysterical, quick finger up the nose at a party, why not? Quick scratch while at the dinner table? don't mind if I do. Place a little fat hand on the thigh of a fellow airplane passenger? Lift one bum cheek in public to allow bottom burps to escape noisily? Lie spread eagled under a holiday makers breakfast table? Peer down nanas sweaters and woooooooooo with approval, all perfectly acceptable in Tillys world. 



At 13 months old she hasn't plucked up the courage to let go of my finger when walking, and walking is all she wants to do, I now walk permanently hunched over and very very slowly, any weight loss from chasing her crawling at the speed of light has come to an abrupt end,  we take long strolls together around the kitchen, down the garden and to and from the living room, I relish every minute as I know it won't be long before I have to force her to hold mummys hand!