Move into Tove

Tove once akin to flesh slug is now a bundle energy. Content no longer just to bum-shuffle, she is demonstrating an unexpected passion for hauling herself up to her feet and cruise around the furniture with varying degrees of success. She can also maneuver her way up a single step and the stairs, once a threatless barrier, are now something to be scaled. Luckily she is still relatively hopeless but the first 12 months of sedentary delight are very much thing of the past. Bugger.

Amid this sudden mania for moving - she is entering into that delightful sweet spot of baby delight. She is beginning to burble away, smile, gurn, becharm and bewitch us all. Unless you cross her - then she unleashes what Paddington would call a hard stare. With which she will reduce the recipient of said stare into an awkward clammy mess. It's quite something to behold - and it quickly veers, from a parental perspective, from being a sweet talking point to being slightly awkward as your daughter death stares a random individual. 

More importantly, she is starting to actually eat solid food rather than simply existing on breast milk which is a relief as she is right greedy bugger. She is the breast feeding equivalent of a cat burglar - her daring raids on her mothers breasts are ever more ambitious. And compounded by her inability to sleep without guzzling milk. However, this evening she devoured pesto-baked Salmon, yes yes we live in North London, and cous-cous so hopefully her nocturnal grazing will cease.

And, of course she remains very very sweet. As is evidenced below.