I know I keep saying it, but I can’t believe how fast this year is going and how quickly you’ve become your own little person. It seems like an age ago since we first brought you home from the hospital – you were wearing a ‘newborn’ baby grow that was so big your hands didn’t reach the mittens, and a woolly hat that looked more like a tea cosy on your tiny head. The baby grow had been hanging in your wardrobe since I was six months pregnant and every now and again we would get it out just to look at and try to picture you wearing it.
But we couldn’t really picture it at all. I remember us sitting out in our garden last year at this time, talking about how different our lives would be in another year when you would be in the garden too – we imagined you on the grass, sat playing on the picnic blanket. We talked about what you might look like (definitely fair), what character you would have (hopefully cheeky) and what it would like to be parents (god only knew). But we really had no idea about how you much you would change our lives and how much you would mean to us.
You are now eight-months-old and we are still in awe of you every day. You now sleep through until 6.30/7am now (thank you) and your choice of alarm tone has changed from panicked cry (‘where the hell are my parents? I did not permit you to leave!’) to cute babbling (“Wow, my voice sounds really great!”) Your dad can’t wait to get you out of your cot in the morning and we always bring you into our bed as we have a quick cuppa and you play with (try to eat) the TV remote/our phones/whatever-we-can-find-as-we-forgot/couldn’t be bothered-to-bring-in-your-toys.
After months of you teasing us with half-arsed giggles, you have finally succumbed to our humour and realised that your parents are actually pretty funny. You have the cutest little giggle and stick your tongue out as you laugh when we’re justtoo funny to handle. Peekaboo is a firm favourite but you also laugh at a great dance I do, and your dad has a few questionable moves which are apparently hilarious.
In fact, I need to have a word with you about that…
Dad is still your favourite, which is a bit off if you ask me since I dedicate my entire waking day to your every need. When Dad gets home from work it’s as if Father Christmas himself walked through the door (I’ll fill you in later) and then when he walks out of the room again you throw the biggest hissy fit until he picks you up. I didn’t mind this so much until you started to have hissy fits whenever Dad handed you to me. Now that’s just not on I’m afraid. It’s embarrassing and makes me look like a bad mother…I know that sometimes I do leave you in front of the television for a little too long, and some mornings I might give you a ‘wash’ with a wet wipe, but I would say I’m pretty good to you on the whole. You don’t know you’re born yet, I tell you.
I’d be a little more put out if it wasn’t for your hissy fits being so bloody hilarious. You actually clench your fists together and go all red in the face. I’m not sure what an eight-month-old has to be so angry about, but you definitely know what you do and don’t want already. Like when I’m feeding you your dinner and you refuse to open your mouth so I sneak in a couple of spoonfuls of fruit puree to get you eating again. When I sneak in another spoonful of chicken dinner it DOES NOT MAKE YOU HAPPY AT ALL.
You have discovered a more simple way of getting rid of food you don’t like: Max. Some days I catch you pretending to be interested in your finger food, moving it from one hand to another, inspecting it closely, before ‘accidentally’ dropping it on the floor. You even look after it as if to say “I’m not sure how that got there mummy, naughty Max“. Yeah right. You never seem to throw the cheese – you love that stuff. Or the pear. Although yesterday I did catch you offering a piece of your pear to Max for a lick before popping it in your mouth. Sharing is lovely sweetheart. But not with dogs.
You now have four top teeth half through and have taken to grinding them which is driving your Dad mad. He actually can’t stand to be around you whenever you do it, but you seem to find it pretty funny. Almost as funny as when you bite into his head when he has you on his shoulders. I find that pretty funny too.
You also started to ‘crawl’ this week – or more realised that you can pull your body along the wooden floor if your hands are sticky. I got very excited by this (filmed you five times fetching the remote and sent it to Nanna), until the next day when you realised that it’s far easier to simply lie on your back and push off with your feet, which is now your preferred method of transport. Oh well, at least it’s more hygienic.
Other things you’re doing this month:
- Standing up unaided whilst holding onto something
- Starting to hold and drink from your own beaker
- Making different babbling and gurgling noises
- Banging your toys together to make a racket
- Smiling and flirting with absolutely anyone
- Shouting and banging if people aren’t paying you attention
- Raking balls of fluff out of the carpet and eating them (yes, I do try and stop you)
Thanks for the first eight months darling, it’s been a blast.