I found the carpet in Che's room today and Poet looked on as I fumbled my way through paper/sticky tape creations, books and toys. I stopped for a few moments here and there to watch her discover her feet and realised that pom poms on booties make the best kind of toy (for a four-month-old). Regardless of her current sniffly nose she's still guzzling down the milk - and it's going straight to her cheeks. Seriously, those cheeks - you actually sink into them when you kiss them. I don't kiss, I smooch.
I love the rights that come with being the Muma. Smooches and eyeliner moustaches.