The Fifteenth Month: January
11th
You are a real little toddling boy these days. We went to St George's Park in almost spring-like sunshine today. You walked all the way to the lake, exclaiming in excitement at the seagulls, shouting out 'duck duck'. You giggled on the swings, and surprisingly (to me), climbed the steep ladder of the slide. It was so wonderful to see you outside, with so much space around you, toddling up to the fence round the playground, peering through and shouting at the other children, that you wanted to come in. A few elderly people smiled at you and commented how much you loved walking. Lovely for me to see the pleasure they got from seeing you being an exuberant, exploring little boy.
13th
Last night, a new funny game with the damp facecloth after the bath. You threw it to me and said 'catch', so we played a game of catch. I love the way you throw your arms in the air, your little potbelly sticking out, all much clearer to see without your clothes on. You're so exuberant and full of energy, and I admire your perfect, smooth little body. Then I threw the cloth into the bath. Where's it gone? I asked. You repeated 'gone' and did this brilliant 'I don't know' gesture with your hands and started looking everywhere, under the towels and rugs. It's amazing how much you know and understand; it always surprises me, because not so long ago you were just my babe in arms. And I still keep calling you Baba.
24th Tuesday
A cliché but true, days and weeks are whizzing by. You are still that enigmatic mix of baby and small boy. Even on days when my head is spinning, and things have been too rushed, I still feel so happy and totally in love with you. You especially remind me of this when I stop what I'm trying to do: cooking; preparing food; washing up; phone calls; paperwork, and really engage with you – playing. It feels such a delight, and a luxury, and is mostly something you do with your dada / papa. Today I chased you under the clothes rack – which you can now cleverly pull things off, and hang things on. In the last few weeks you have become more and more vocal, and wake in the morning with a torrent of babbling Theo language, which I long to hold in my memory forever. You used to wake, or surface from feeding and sit up and point 'ook', then book, you like to start the day with the books at our bedside. Today also significant because I finally bit the bullet and paid £25 for some Clarks shoes. Not terribly exciting design, just sturdy blue with 2 Velcro straps so you can run around and get muddy.
New words in the last 2 days: apple – is this the first 2 syllable word? (Apart from the early Mama?) And monk for monkey. Current words (15 months old in a week):
cat dog (+ woof / oof) apple
door cot ma / boo (mama boob)
coat duck
hat book
goat tone (stone)
Animal sounds
brrr (horse)
oink (wrinkles nose)
oof (dog)
auw (lion / dragon)
I cherish our cuddling moments when you nurse. You are in your own space, staring ahead, sometimes making sounds of dreamy or not so dreamy satisfaction 'mm, ooh' in your lovely resonant voice. You like to pinch my belly, or put your thumb in my belly button, or your other hand round my back. Sometimes I catch your eye, or tickle you and you do your dirty sounding gurgle and look up at me and laugh.
Yesterday you fell over the front door step just as Sophie and Samuel had arrived, and I, stupidly, had my back turned. I turned to find you with your head flat on the concrete, screaming. My heart jumped, I felt so bad, and now you have another large bruise on your head. You fell on the kitchen’s stone floor at the weekend, then twice on the tarmac paths at the zoo. Beautiful sunny Saturday, and Papa, you and I went on our first trip to the Bristol Zoo Gardens where we saw Mama and Baby gorilla, lots of electric blue fish, and the penguins, which you call ducks (which you say as dook, like your papa).
Night times, a few hard nights. Last night you screamed inconsolably at 10.30, and then didn't settle at all well at 1.45 (I was still awake at 3am). Maybe it was the shock of the fall down the front step. You fed and fed at 1.45, but kept sitting up and trying to climb over me, and cried in a whingey kind of way. I have thought several times of trying to stop night feeding, and now it looks like we may have to. I feel very sad even thinking about weaning you off the breast, and it makes me aware of how often you now ask for ma or boo, and sit on my knee, jumping up and down, crying out, or lifting my jumper. If I ever take off a layer and reveal my belly flesh, you immediately think of it. Likewise, if we bathe together, as we did yesterday, after swimming: you pointed at each nipple, and said your usual exclaiming 'uh' and then climbed on top of me.
You are a real little toddling boy these days. We went to St George's Park in almost spring-like sunshine today. You walked all the way to the lake, exclaiming in excitement at the seagulls, shouting out 'duck duck'. You giggled on the swings, and surprisingly (to me), climbed the steep ladder of the slide. It was so wonderful to see you outside, with so much space around you, toddling up to the fence round the playground, peering through and shouting at the other children, that you wanted to come in. A few elderly people smiled at you and commented how much you loved walking. Lovely for me to see the pleasure they got from seeing you being an exuberant, exploring little boy.
13th
Last night, a new funny game with the damp facecloth after the bath. You threw it to me and said 'catch', so we played a game of catch. I love the way you throw your arms in the air, your little potbelly sticking out, all much clearer to see without your clothes on. You're so exuberant and full of energy, and I admire your perfect, smooth little body. Then I threw the cloth into the bath. Where's it gone? I asked. You repeated 'gone' and did this brilliant 'I don't know' gesture with your hands and started looking everywhere, under the towels and rugs. It's amazing how much you know and understand; it always surprises me, because not so long ago you were just my babe in arms. And I still keep calling you Baba.
24th Tuesday
A cliché but true, days and weeks are whizzing by. You are still that enigmatic mix of baby and small boy. Even on days when my head is spinning, and things have been too rushed, I still feel so happy and totally in love with you. You especially remind me of this when I stop what I'm trying to do: cooking; preparing food; washing up; phone calls; paperwork, and really engage with you – playing. It feels such a delight, and a luxury, and is mostly something you do with your dada / papa. Today I chased you under the clothes rack – which you can now cleverly pull things off, and hang things on. In the last few weeks you have become more and more vocal, and wake in the morning with a torrent of babbling Theo language, which I long to hold in my memory forever. You used to wake, or surface from feeding and sit up and point 'ook', then book, you like to start the day with the books at our bedside. Today also significant because I finally bit the bullet and paid £25 for some Clarks shoes. Not terribly exciting design, just sturdy blue with 2 Velcro straps so you can run around and get muddy.
New words in the last 2 days: apple – is this the first 2 syllable word? (Apart from the early Mama?) And monk for monkey. Current words (15 months old in a week):
cat dog (+ woof / oof) apple
door cot ma / boo (mama boob)
coat duck
hat book
goat tone (stone)
Animal sounds
brrr (horse)
oink (wrinkles nose)
oof (dog)
auw (lion / dragon)
I cherish our cuddling moments when you nurse. You are in your own space, staring ahead, sometimes making sounds of dreamy or not so dreamy satisfaction 'mm, ooh' in your lovely resonant voice. You like to pinch my belly, or put your thumb in my belly button, or your other hand round my back. Sometimes I catch your eye, or tickle you and you do your dirty sounding gurgle and look up at me and laugh.
Yesterday you fell over the front door step just as Sophie and Samuel had arrived, and I, stupidly, had my back turned. I turned to find you with your head flat on the concrete, screaming. My heart jumped, I felt so bad, and now you have another large bruise on your head. You fell on the kitchen’s stone floor at the weekend, then twice on the tarmac paths at the zoo. Beautiful sunny Saturday, and Papa, you and I went on our first trip to the Bristol Zoo Gardens where we saw Mama and Baby gorilla, lots of electric blue fish, and the penguins, which you call ducks (which you say as dook, like your papa).
Night times, a few hard nights. Last night you screamed inconsolably at 10.30, and then didn't settle at all well at 1.45 (I was still awake at 3am). Maybe it was the shock of the fall down the front step. You fed and fed at 1.45, but kept sitting up and trying to climb over me, and cried in a whingey kind of way. I have thought several times of trying to stop night feeding, and now it looks like we may have to. I feel very sad even thinking about weaning you off the breast, and it makes me aware of how often you now ask for ma or boo, and sit on my knee, jumping up and down, crying out, or lifting my jumper. If I ever take off a layer and reveal my belly flesh, you immediately think of it. Likewise, if we bathe together, as we did yesterday, after swimming: you pointed at each nipple, and said your usual exclaiming 'uh' and then climbed on top of me.
posted by f at 9:00 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home