My baby turned one

So we blinked.
And George has turned one.  I knew it would happen fast. I knew as the cliches all say, that the year would fly by and damn it they were so very right. Despite Alby lifting, carrying and wrestling, despite Percy licks and even the occasional bash, despite daddy working crazy hours meaning being stuck with crazy mama, George survived a whole twelve months. And if his goblin cackles are anything to go by he's as pleased as can be about it.

One year old George loves playing peek a boo, stamping his feet, clapping his hands, being tickled on the tummy and being swung in circles. He loves kicking and throwing balls, popping bubbles and knocking down stacking cups. He loves throwing his food on the floor cackling like a maniac with each item. He loves cuddles, stretching up both arms to be swept into your arms at any time. He loves his daddy, more so than his big brother did at this age. He loves his brother and his grandparents especially GG who he did some serious bonding with last week. He really loves his bulldog and will show such daily by climbing on his bed, sitting on him when he's sunbathing or climbing into his crate. George loves to walk. Tonight he walked up and down the kitchen - literally up and down, turning at each end, doing a squat and then heading off to the other side, laughing all the way, at which point the routine would be repeated over and over. He overs being in the garden and eating sand/dirt/grass. He loves being pushed on the swing at the park. He's a fan of Postman Pat. He loves gesticulating whilst shouting.

As I type he is lying flat on his back, arms raised by his head on the bed between his daddy and me. He's snoring lightly, twitching his legs, looking the picture of perfection.

He needs a hair cut and I'm starting to wonder if he will ever put his tongue in his mouth but he is my angel. My beautiful, perfect baby who touches my heart every day with the most spectacular love. We are so blessed having him in our lives.