Mina at one

I expect very few of you to read this post. It’s one for the superfans. Of the girls that is, not my superfans (inevitably a much smaller clique). So I’m mainly speaking to my mum and dad. Perhaps my in-laws. And possibly Mina when she’s old enough to read this, assuming she’s even interested. And that the internet still exists then.

By all rights, this should rank as the dullest post I’ve ever written. A doting panegyric to my youngest child is hardly a crowd-pleaser. But Mina isn’t dull. She’s one of the least dull people I know. I spent five solid months with her and never had a dull moment. Even her hair is arresting, remarked upon wherever she goes. So maybe it won’t be such a dull post.

Mina hit the big numero uno a couple of weeks ago while we were in Portugal (if you’ve read this far, you’ve probably also read about that holiday). Not that she particularly cared where she celebrated her first birthday. For her the novelty of having some new toys to play with was sufficient.

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Eating for beginners

Whoever came up with the idea of baby-led weaning: congratulations, sir, sterling plan. I can only assume it was somebody at one of the major detergent manufacturers.

In earlier days, before we allowed Mina hands-on involvement in what went into her mouth, we often had her in the same clothes for a couple of days running. No chance of that nowadays.  Come bath time, she wears the day’s menu in all its multicoloured glory. The churn of the washing machine is the soundtrack to our lives.

I used to think that I ran a tight ship where the girls were concerned, but since embarking on Mina-led weaning no mealtime pass without her resembling Joseph in his dreamcoat. I don’t remember Lola being quite so fond of slathering herself in her lunch but then when she was a baby sleep deprivation had unhinged my mind so exhaustively that anything could have been going on.

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