So today 27 month old Anya and I had a lovely time together playing 'baby Anya' with her in my arms pretending she was a tiny baby.
Only it struck me that she's not. She's not tiny anymore, no longer a baby. Baby Anya is almost no more! We laughed and took a selfie and as she wriggled out of my arms shouting "Me see, me see!" grabbing at my phone, it was almost surprising how grown up she seemed!
Just 27 months ago she weighed 2lbs and nestled on my chest as a tiny curled up bundle of fragile arms and legs, hooked to a machine to help her breathe with a long, long road before she came home to us.
The time since has flown by. I don't ever wish for her to be tiny, I love how strong and big she is now, but I do wish she will always want to curl up in my arms and pretend she is tiny.
I must remember to savour every moment because they are all too quickly becoming memories. X