I love ceiling roses.
I love it that when I do something silly like lay down on my back with the camera to take a picture of the livingroom ceiling, I am met with this:
I love my table cloth. It cheers me up, even when someone decides that playing is much more fun than drinking.
I love that he smiles whenever anyone makes eye contact with him. And his cheeks. And his funny cow-lick. And his Harrison blue eyes. And his super long eyelashes and...well I could basically eat the child (he's 3 months old today, by the way *gasps in shock*).
I love it when they both sleep at the same time (or not in this case)
I love it when their little curled up and tosty toes escape their sleep suits.
And I love it when sometimes a quiet child does not mean mischief.
