Watching you develop over these past 9 months has been amazing, and here are just some of the monumental milestones I’ve enjoyed.
You’re still such a happy, smiley, chatty little Sprog. Although you’ve hit a bit of a clingy bump in the road, your Dad and I know that it’s a stage you will grow out of, and if anything, I love that you settle once you’re in my arms. You feel safe.
You’ve had a couple of illnesses in your 9 short months. A minor cold and Chicken Pox, or Poulet Pox as your dad nicknamed them, because of suffering from them while out in France on holiday with your grandparents.
On top of the Poulet Pox, in your ninth month you finally got teeth. Not one to do things by half, your bottom left, and top two teeth popped through. You dealt with it all incredibly well.
You’ve also developed crusty eyes. Probably from all that poking around on the floor and then rubbing your eyes. We got some eye drops for you. Lets just say you’re not that keen on us trying to pop them in!
With illness came wavering weight worries. You struggled to eat with Chicken Pox, not because you lost your appetite but because you sucked your thumb and got Pox in the mouth.We try not to worry too much because you’re so happy in yourself and you’re back on track with your weight, 20.8lb at just over nine months.
Speaking of the thumb son, it’s still there, being sucked in when you’re tired or eating. Your Dad says you’ll grow out of it, but I’m not so sure!
Mealtimes are interesting, as you still suck your thumb in between mouthfuls. You’ve worked out how to make us jump by trying to push yourself away from the table, nearly tipping yourself out of the trip trap!
You’re also showing signs of independence, wanting to feed yourself, holding out your hand to grab the spoon.
You’re getting to grips with pooping on the potty, against backlash from outsiders. You will learn in life, lots of people like to judge your choices, we’ll help you learn how to deal with that when the time comes!
We decided against a childminder, my gut wasn’t in it. This doesn’t mean you won’t be going into nursery, just not quite yet.
You are enjoying exploring your new home, crawling confidently now and starting to stand on your own two feet (kind of!). It’s a joy to watch you experience things for the first time. Your ‘prehensile’ finger as Grandma calls it, the pointing finger on your right hand goes out first and does a tentative touch, then most times what ever it is you’re exploring usually ends up in the mouth!
You’re testing your vocal chords, with incessant grunting, especially when we’re out. I think it’s wonderful and if anything, it’s a great icebreaker when we’re out.
You like to throw things and wait for us to pick them up, you’re learning cause and effect and object permanence. That even though I go out of the room, I will come back!
You help me make the mundane in everyday life so enjoyable. You sit and play with the washing while I hang it to dry. We love going shopping together and you enjoy sitting in the trolley seat pointing and grabbing at everything. As we pack, you pat everything as it goes by on the conveyor belt.
We also enjoy swimming, you’re a real water baby. It’s one of my favourite activities as we forget all our worries and are just engrossed in the moment.
For the most part, you sleep through the night and have two naps a day. I have to admit, I struggle when you don’t nap properly, struggle to go down or just generally fight sleep. Mummy needs her own time to re-charge, so when it’s interrupted it’s hard to get back on track!
It’s not always a bed of roses, I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the responsibility. Or Mother’s guilt creeps in. Am I doing enough to stimulate you? Did I let you cry too much? Have you got enough interaction with other people? Am I satisfying your needs?
I hope I am giving you all that you need.
You’re everything and more, you warm my heart every morning when I feed you and surprise me daily. A chatty chappy who makes people smile wherever I take you! I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve brought to mine and your Dad’s lives.