are not dead.
I do not have post partum depression, bimamma from the sclera or the like. Pc just died. And the 'internet key has given up. So I've been cut off from the blogosphere to date.
Well, first of all thanks for your good wishes.
Then, my daughter.
After what must have been a stupid caesarean section and instead it was a lot of stuff more splatter than expected, with lots of small tank drainage, pain and pears next to bed mad (but really crazy), I found myself with this long-awaited dwarf in his arms. It 's like looking in a mirror, she looks to me like Davi looks like you.
Paola, renamed Pigola on his way to "peep" to cry, is a dwarf quiet. From Christmas Day begins to smile at his father rimbecillito, and observe the world through a pair of oil-colored eyes, too much liquid potreli defined. The Nano has decided it's "me and mom and s'incazza bad of the others take it in her arms.
Yes, the Nano. I realized that
SOMNO allafine nano is all the more when I brought home Paola. Who has a chubby hand and the size of my palm. That the size four Portab dim pants, speaking Iun speedy and who understands everything. From that came his sister broke up the language. Go to her and recites poetry for Christmas and then surprise you with a "Paola, now you ..."
"but nano, Paul yet know about ... we teach them "
and he, very serious " Paola, say AAAA, Paola, say AAA "
blennies and covers it with kisses.
And she stands there and looks puzzled nano this giant full of hair that carries cars and puppets, which takes off her pacifier and puts it in his mouth ... ... and now claim
its roof.
Sorry, I must go.
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