The baby girl is one this week. I can hardly believe so soon. A first year of life - gone in the blink of an eye. When born - in a flurry of new baby gifts - we acquired several cuddly rabbits, and I joked to the five year old that we needed a hutch. The largest - pink, green and floppy eared - is now her favourite toy. A happy pair they make, sat together in the cot as she calls to be lifted up.
And my boy - hand in paw with a spotted dog. Black and white and machine washed to grey. Found in a shop in a pretty Welsh town. A holiday prize and love at first sight. A photo - taken moments after we bought the dog - winks at me now from my left hand side.
Family members - these toys. Scraps of fluff and fabric so very loved. Favourite ragged playmates who to lose would be a loss indeed.
I have a rabbit of my own - threadbare in a bottom drawer. Torn and stitched and through the wars. Held in small arms in a million yellowed snaps, a glint in a glassy eye. And a blue jumper, knitted by hands no longer around, to keep him warm.
Not played with, but there. A childhood treasure, too special to send away. And amidst my children's sea of toys, new favourites now emerge. A rocking horse and a wheelie dog. Well worn books not destined for the charity shop.
But a rabbit and a spotted dog. The touch and the smell of those who hold them dear. Cuddled and adventure bound for years. Loved by us all. Special - and favourite - and to keep... x