She is walking.  She isn't even one yet.

Not just tentative steps either, nah that was ages ago, this is proper walking and she loves it.

It started out all clumsy, often resembling a younger, drunken me with her staggering about and falling over.  It is interesting to note that this is the only time she has ever resembled me.

Now she is confident, she trots about the place happily muttering to herself and finding stuff to destroy.  If she finds a high value item; phone, keys, remote controls, anything from my handbag, she goes quiet and we know she's up to no good.  She has even learnt to run away, dashing off in the opposite direction if I find her with something she shouldn't have.

She has shoes.  They are very cute and she is quite fond of them.  Now when we go out she has her shoes put on and if we don't stop to let her out for a little run around then she gets a bit stroppy.  If we manage to get her on the swings then she is in heaven but getting her off the swing and back into the pram is not fun, not fun at all.

On a different parenting note, why did nobody tell me how hard it is to be a mum when you are ill.  Huh?  It's not like you can phone in sick is it?

I think there should be some state-funded emergency nanny service where you phone up on a sick day and a nanny in the style of Mary Poppins turns up to take care of your child whilst you lie in bed feeling sorry for yourself with Netflix and a bumper pack of Strepsils.

I am so poorly today with a coldy sore throat thing passed on by Darren that I actually cried.  I cried this morning and begged him not to go to work.  Yes, I need that emergency nanny service real bad.  I have roused myself to finish this post whilst Bets is napping and now I think I shall return to having a lie down and maybe get myself a cup of tea.