You had your nine-month check yesterday (No, I don’t know where that time went, either.) You behaved impeccably and loved every second of the attention: who wouldn’t when you’ve got your parents, a health visitor, and a student looking at you? You stood up, speed-crawled, demonstrated your pincer grip, showed off your reuseable nappy, babbled, and played peek-a-boo. Needless to say, the health visitor was very pleased, and we’re very proud of you.
Son, you’ve changed so much in such a short time. It seems so long ago that Grandma started playing peek-a-boo with you, but now you initiate it by holding your favourite blanket up over your face. You have very definite likes and dislikes now, and we’re starting to see a little more of your personality. 99% of the time you’re the happiest, sunniest baby in the world, but when you don’t get your own way we’ve got it coming to us! If we take something away from you that you want, your bottom lip wobbles, and we have to race to find something to distract you. (Just a side note: iPhones, bits of plastic from the floor, and cat toys aren’t particularly good for eating. Just sayin’.)
This month, you’ve learned some very definite words. “Mama” (normally when you’re cross), “Dada” (usually when you’re happy), and “CA!!!!!!!” (said whilst chasing after a feline at high speed.). You are also saying “no” with alarming regularity. Last Friday you brought me the home phone, handed it to me, and said “Dada”, and we left a lovely voicemail for Daddy.
You’ve become a very sociable little boy, and you LOVE those baby girls. For some reason, you’re not interested in playing with little boys, and only girls will do. I love standing back and watching you make friends.
Food. How are we doing with food? Well, at the beginning of the month you had a horrible bug and wouldn’t eat anything, not even Ambrosia Strawberry Custard. On the second day you were ill we all had to go on a five-hour round trip to see a client, and you ate nothing. Nothing, that was, until we stopped at McDonalds on the way home and you decided you fancied a McFlurry. Don’t tell Grandma, remember? You’ve started asking for bits of what we’ve got, and you’ve tried so many new things that way, including deep-fried mozzarella sticks, nachos, and Domino’s pizza. (Oh, and fresh tomato, courgette, leek, asparagus, peas, long beans, carrot, nice home-made pizza, RAW CHEESE (thank God!)…) We’ve given all the Stage 1 jars to Auntie Hester for Wilfred now, and I’m so glad to have that cupboard back!
You’re going through a stage at the moment where you absolutely hate going in your carseat. You squirm and wriggle and arch your back, and there’s nothing we can do about it because you have to go in the car, and you’re the same in your pushchair and in the Belle Baby. We’ve solved the pushchair problem with a “buggy driver”, and the car problem with an in-car DVD player. I’m afraid I’m going to be hardass-mum again, and deny you the DVD player unless we’re on a long trip. You really don’t need it just to go into town, and if I have to deal with yet more In The Night Garden I’ll go even more insane.
In the last month or so, we’ve all discovered soft play centres, too. We now go once or twice a week, and one of the centres we go to gives vouchers for free admission the next time. You adore the ball pool, and have learned how to use the slide. Still, I’m not sure whether you or Daddy have more fun.
Next week, I go back to “proper” work, running Daddy’s company, and you start at the childminder. You and I still get to do photography and fairtrade clothes, but Daddy needs some help for two days a week. There will be two little girls there with you, and I bet you’ll love it. I will miss you dearly, but we’ll enjoy our time together even more, and you’ll watch far less TV.
David, you’ve made us into a family, and there isn’t a day when I don’t think about how glad I am that we’re all together. I love you.
Mummy (and Daddy who says he’s not crying as he reads this.)