I'm in a funk. It's January. I hate January. January is one big funk until the end and then it's my birthday and then it's nearly spring and then I cheer up.
Ammie has learned to kiss. She reaches over and plants her wide open mouth on your mouth and depending on whether or not you have stubble, leaves it there briefly or for absolutely ages. Then she pulls away, laughs then does it again. Sometimes she sticks her tongue in your mouth, sometimes she bites your lip. It's the best thing ever.
Ella has started moving. Properly moving. Climbing and crawling and hurumphing and falling on her face. We never thought she would let herself fall on her face, that kid spent 6 months thinking about how best to stand up before she gave it a go. That she is hurumphing is kind of amazing.
We did our first wedding of 2012, it was totally lovely. A pretty arty girl married a long-haired musical boy. The guests wore faux fur, tweed and vintage shoes. There was a gramophone dj and coloured pencils.
We're going to France again next month. I'm absolutely too tired for hairyplanes. If anyone would like to go in my place please apply in the comments. (high alcohol tolerance and GSOH essential.)
We've been talking about buying a houseboat. Because throwing our money straight into the Thames in a suitcase would be too efficient.
I cut my hair off. It's now too short to tie back and too long not to bug me all the time. I either need to wait for it to grow (patience) or cut it dead short (commitment). I don't know which of those things I'm worse at.
*photograph by All The Love in the Universe, aka Pacing the Panic Room. They cure my funk.