ALBIE’S JOURNEY
Squirming around on the spot, I tried to be as quick as I could.
‘All done now,’ I cooed, picking Albie, then one, up from his mat.
He’d always give me a hard time, whilst I tried to pick his outfit of the day.
Luckily, I had my husband Chris, 32, and our daughter’s Lilly,10, and Poppy, eight, to give me a helping hand.
Plus, we had number four on the way, with a baby girl due to arrive in October last year, so it would give them all practice!
‘Stay still little man,’ I groaned, trying to pull Albie’s top over his head, one day in April last year.
Tugging the material over his arms, his right one got caught in the sleeve and as a result he had slung it out with a great force.
Curled up and crying, it seemed he couldn’t move his arm as freely as before – it had gone limp.
