The kid walks himself up and down the corridor with his block trolley, cackling like a fiend and trilling his high-pitched little bird call at me whenever he needs help turning around.
He loves the sandpit, and will leap into the arms of any random neighbour who happens to be in the back yard, in the hopes that they will ignore their wet washing and instead take him on a grand tour of the premises. They always oblige, cos he is Captain Freaking Cute.
He has a vocabulary of six hundred thousand objects he can point at if you name them, and he understands every goddamn thing you say. We're up to the part of life where you spell things so your offspring can't tell what you're talking about.
He points at the number '3' on our door every time we come home and his little tongue is catching up with his brain... it almost sounds like a word now.
He has spent minutes at a time - like, 30 of them - posting 20-cent coins into his giraffe money box, one by one, and then shaking them out and starting again. It is heaven, for both of us.
He loves parks, all of them, and will point at his red sling (the 'joey pouch') hanging on the doorknob whenever the whim for a spot of slide-climbing takes him. He always goes down head-first.
Work is great. I have zero mother guilt, and I don't even feel guilty about that, now that those bastard hormones have left the building. It might be different if there were childcare involved, but the grandmother thing is working out a treat.
We had a first birthday party with the mother's group peeps a couple of weeks ago.
 |
| That's my kid. |
Attention, future me: Life was effing brilliant here. Don't you forget it.
I'm gonna take note of that one: attention, future me, don't forget how amazing this is. He sure sounds like absolute perfection.
ReplyDeleteOh wow. That's brilliant. It's so good to hear you sounding so happy.
ReplyDeleteThings have been crazy here so my neglected blog has become even more so. Auden turns one on Sunday, so I have been giving my naff mother credentials a serious workout: tonight I made bunting and had a very wonky shot at a felt birthday crown. (I'm trying to take a few process photos so I can blog about it.) He had his first sequence of three steps yesterday, he's saying 'Hurro!', and those first teeth are about to come bursting through (I can see at least eight right under the gum).
By the way, thanks for the link a few posts ago, about weaning craziness. My dear mate from mothers' group has just gone back to work and is in the midst of this.
Wow! Bunting AND a crown! Impressive! And not naff until the cloth nappy matches the icing on the organic, gluten-free, vegan cupcakes, and the whole lot is documented via Instagram. (Who am I kidding, I love that shit.)
ReplyDeleteAnd three steps! BRILLIANT! Coen pushes things around ahead of him like a champ, and he's giving us all lumbar pain with the amount of toddling around he likes to do while holding on to our hands, but he's yet to cross into the big-boy territory of actual steps on his own. And words! And teeth! I'm telling you, this first year milestone is so freaking great. It's all happening! Happy birthday, kiddo.
No worries re: weaning. Can't believe there are still surprises like that out there. Seriously, mothers-of-old, what gives with the holding out on the information?
(@bunny - He would be absolute perfection on a stick if he did not wake up at 5.30 am everysinglegoddamnday!)