The End

This blog is now closed. The story continues over on Flip Flops and Flying Carpets.

Thank you for reading.

A Matter of Time

In 8 days, my tiny baby turns one. Tiny baby is not so tiny any longer. She weighs over 20lbs and has hair long enough to pull into a ponytail (I toy with the idea but haven't yet). She has a little collection of words that she uses on a regular basis. She is now mobile and cruises around the living room like she owns it. Her favourite spot, however, is her bookshelf. Early on, I cleared one of the wall unit shelves and filled it with her books. She has recently discovered it and takes pleasure in inspecting her books over and over again until they all end up at her feet. She'll then hang out at the shelf and "read" a book or two of her choice.


I could watch her for hours.

But yesterday saw her first "accident". She slipped and hit her mouth against the corner of the tv unit. There was so much blood. I generally pride myself on keeping calm during situations like that. I'm usually really, really good. (It's needles that scare me, not blood.) But this time... oh I was mostly calm, I did everything right, but there were moments of panic where I struggled to keep it together. My baby was broken. She was bleeding and all I could do, really, was wait to see whether the bleeding would continue.

It didn't. But the afterwards looked pretty scary. My top and her top full of blood splatters, kitchen towels soaked in blood, a cup I'd used to give her water to wash her mouth with also streaked with blood. It wasn't a pretty sight.

She was fine long before I was. I sat her in her highchair and offered her a couple spoonfuls of ice-cream (I figured the cold would help?!). She slept for 3 hours after that and it took almost that long for my heart to return to it's normal rhythm.

It still races just remembering.


  1. glad you're both alright. can i take her to the library? puhleeeeeeze? :D