I really wanted to write tonight, but a certain little girl had other plans for me. As I type this, there's a baby laying across my lap fighting sleep with every ounce of her being and a cup of hot raspberry tea sitting in front of me getting more and more lukewarm as the minutes go by. Sometimes I think Rosie has an internal alarm that goes off any time she senses that I'm about to sit down and focus my attention elsewhere.
I'm not complaining.
I know from past experience this stage will pass and be nothing but a fleeting memory.
Aaaaaand now my tea is cold.
So tonight, it's just pictures..