A portrait of my children each week, for a year. Joining in with Che and Fidel.
Ragamuffin, my little man, are you sure you have not been here before! Morning cuddles in bed after your bottle. I along with everyone else am amazed at your hair, the sheer amount of it is gobsmaking to most people, it’s craziness makes me laugh and smile. And those eyes, I could stare into those eyes for hours.
Princess, my dear girl, looking at you this week, I am not sure when you grew up or when the time went. I recall the week before Ragamuffin was born, laying beside you, rubbing your feet and gazing at your sleeping face. oh how tiny and fragile you seemed to me. I’m not sure that it is because he is here now, but those feet seem so much bigger, your face more mature and full of character, with more and more freckles appearing daily. Where did my baby girl go?