We’re deep in the hurt locker that is cold season here at FTC, and the fault lies squarely at my door, having brought home a real rip snorter from work. I came down with it first, although Keith claimed I wasn’t ill, I just thought I was ill, which I thought was sage advice and have since repeated back to him numerous times now that it is he who “thinks” he is ill.
Anyway the point is I brought a cold into the house, and that house happens to contain a small child who’s body has not yet been subjected to the yearly barrage of snot-sneezes. Apparently that is of no great import to our son who coped far better than us adults and merely had a few days of being thoroughly grumpy and whingy.
I’m not sure if I have mentioned it before, but I never tire of it, so I will mention it again – but my son is just comedy gold when he cries. Not the crying itself of course, I don’t find my child’s misery funny, but the way in which he chooses to express it has me in stitches because in between the Waaaaas and the ROOOOOS there is another sound, which roughly translates to MMmmnnnnnmmnnnnnnn and is accompanied by a comedy downturned mouth and the poutiest lower lip you’ve ever seen. Seriously, people have approached me to ask me when they built a ski jump in Arlesey, it’s THAT pouty. I love that little face, and I hope he never stops pulling it because there is something to be said for having the ability to look sad in the same way that Mr Men do.
More important news is that this week we have discovered feet and also THINGS. Evenings are now quite a well oiled machine, quite literally in the case of Alfie’s massage which kicks off the whole bed time routine. Up until now he has limited his responses to the bubbles and the crossed eyes and the copious amounts of talking, but this week he has discovered that these feelings are coming via bits of his body. There have been moments, where he seems to almost startle at the sight of his feet in a kind of “whoa, where did you come from?” way and Keith said he reached out and tried to grab them a few days ago. I missed it because I was turning the page in the massage book, klutz that I am.
He has definitely changed in his perception of things around him. He started interacting with toys and people ages ago, but whereas before he would reach out to toys because they were bright, or making a noise, now he is holding them and examining them in way that makes me want to pass him a scalpel and mop his brow. His favourite purple elephant which hangs from his car seat could be first in the firing line I fear.
Oh, I might have mentioned before that we plan to wean Alfie using Baby Led Weaning which is a concept that is becoming a lot more popular recently. I was looking online last night to start researching good sources of recipes and I found a real blinder called My Daddy Cooks. I know half of you are now rolling your eyes in a “duh! Where have you been??” because this guy has been on the news and GMTV and everything but if you’re part of the other half that is now going “Huh?” then take a look at this blog, the guy is excellent and I suspect might become Keith’s favourite cooking resource over the next few months.
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