This is my 333rd post.
Good things come in threes. So do London buses.
I'm putting off transcribing an interview and glancing at the glorious day outside, it's sunny and still and frosty - a perfect winter's day. I am having trouble focussing on the job at hand not just because I want to go and sit in the sun until my hair catches fire, but also because I am totally loved-up on Harper at the moment. It's sick making. He is growing up so fast, making little words, closing the door when we ask, goose-stepping scross the lounge, imitating me drying my hair, shaking his fists in celebration and saying 'Neur!' with a defiant scowl when confronted with a situation he's not entirely happy with - I know this doesn't mean much to anyone else but my heart is just bursting to give him a cuddle right now. Last night his dad went out to a movie so Harper and I had the longest bath ever, took ages getting into pyjamas because we were goofing off, read stories until there was just no doubting Big Nutbrown Hare's insistence that he loved Little Nutbrown Hare most, and had a big, big cuddle in the rocking chair with Mr Snuffy, special blankie and all.