The baby girl loves tag. Taught by her brother she jabs then crawls as far as she can.
And she is fast. Knees not yet favouring feet. Across our floor at high speed. Wishing to be caught - scooped up and tickled - then off like a shot.
But a slap on the cheek today - poke in the eye and dive away.
'No darling - I'm still yet fond of my face'.
I wish not to add to my gallery of scars. Inflicted by my tiny foe - who for Christmas gouged a chunk from her mothers nose. This warrior girl is taking control - as if to say 'I'll claim my throne'.
You took it child 2 years ago - push and pull and kick and grow. (What make-up hides the stretch marks show).
So my rose - without a thorn. A right hook and a steady arm. I hope it's just a phase - tummy yes but not the face.
Then followed with a kiss - baby lips and flying fists.
My little independent girl. Fit for her mother and fit for the world... x