Tomorrow is Clara's last day to be one. Before I burst into inconsolable sobbing, here are some photos from our most recent trip to the cottage.
Breakfast starts out with some toast and jam.
Clara sees me with the camera and starts making funny faces.
She shows me how she can squish me with her thumb and finger.
Then she pretends to ignore me.
Such a ham.
Wait a second. She checks to make sure I'm still giving her my full attention.
I take her out of the high chair and move her onto the yellow kitchen chair.
She isn't happy about the jam, butter, and crumbs smeared all over her face. I wash her off.
Mmmm.... Clean. Much better.
Please don't turn two this weekend, Clara. My heart is breaking right now. I don't think I can take anymore of this growing up. It's killing me.