Thursday, August 2, 2012

Dear Boy (7 months)

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Dear Boy,

Today you are seven months old.

My very clever soul, you starting rolling this way and that in the days after you turned six months. Since then you have been chasing toys around the living room, finding yourself wedged under the couch, jammed against the coffee-table and rapidly whisked off the floor when you stray too close to the heater. You're mobile. You can take aim at something you want and go get it... eventually. Sometimes it requires 3-point turns, frog-kicking, push-ups and squealing, but you get there eventually.

You've also started to reach our your arms for your Dad and me. It's heart-melting.

I think you melted your Dad's heart even more when you started saying 'dad'. Of course, you say 'dadadadad' to just about everything but every now and then you look him in the eye and grin, or spy his picture on the fridge and 'dadadadad' to your heart's content.

A few weeks ago, you and your Dad had your first boys night because I had to work late. Every Wednesday is boys night now. Your Dad gets to pick you up from daycare and walk home with you in the pram. The first time, you fell asleep and your Dad sent me a picture on my phone of you snoozing away with a little frown on your face. Dad brought you home, played with you, fed you and bathed you... and then you snuggled up together on the couch for your evening bottle. You were still awake when I got home, so I got to sneak in a snuggly cuddle with you and put you to bed.

In the last month, we introduced new protein to try and help you sleep a little better at night. And it worked! You love your Greek yoghurt and devour lots of the beef stew I made for you. Now we're melting cheese into some of your mashed veggies and giving you bits of chicken to gnaw. It's a whole new world, Dear Boy.  I think there's lamb, lentils and tofu in your near future.

You've also become a maniac in the bathtub. I think you've decided it's amusement park, your own personal slip'n'slide. You flip onto your belly and use your hands to push you down the tub, then launch yourself back up again kicking off the end. It's certainly not a calming wind-down anymore. You aren't sure about the bubbles but I'm guessing that because they make the tub more slippery, you don't mind them so much.

You're still a delightfully happy and easy-going little boy. People tell us all the time: family, friends, your carers, strangers in the street. We're so lucky you that we're the ones that get to watch you grow-up, that we receive the sunniest of your smiles.

Love,

Your mum.


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