My little boy has freckles - two whole freckles. One on his right arm and the other in front of his left ear. I wonder how long I can continue to count them for. I refrained from labeling them freckle 1 and freckle 2 in biro. Drawing on his face seemed like it would be crossing some kind of line. Also, if he ends up anything like his Grandma, I'm not going to be able to count as high as I will need to anyway.
The sun has been sticking around, and it is almost August. Summer weather has been present in... Summer?! Unprecedented, but much appreciated. Particularly given our travels to Southampton and, upon returning, Porthcawl. Dr Xargle stories with Auntie Emma, who has the best story voice EVER, and general rough and tumble, football games and paddling pools with Uncle Gareth; beach time with his Daddy followed by bedtime cuddles with Mama. The bedtime cuddling aspect was prolonged somewhat by the increasing presence of FOUR new teeth. Four teeth at the same time. I try to pacify him with talk of the steak that he will soon be able to eat, but for some reason this does not seem to work.
This weekend is one of productivity; it is about facing the house and telling it to stop misbehaving. Leaks, holes and cracks seem to be appearing out of nowhere. I really want to move, but cannot unless I do something about it first. Every night I debate the pros and cons of shutting the window - I'd really like to not hear the conversations of the outside world and screeching tyres and people alike, but having a small person self-combust is probably counter-productive.
And on that note, enjoy my little piece of nostalgia while my small person and I play with our lego (ok, his lego) and make a thorough mess of the living room.