58 Weeks

12974378_1910905475802548_9094253456671692305_nIn the middle of a storm, whilst nursing an excitable and smiley little boy to sleep, I worked out that it is exactly 58 weeks since Fredders splashed his way into the birthing pool. I know, I know – he’s ONE I hear you all say …. Note to self; must not become one of those Mums who answers the “how old is he?” question with “62 and a half weeks”. Seriously, my eyes would’ve rolled at this a couple of years ago … how motherhood changes you …. !

Last time I blogged I was exhausted. I’m still exhausted, but not debilitatingly so. Sleep is still hit and miss [“Last night was better” I said at work the other morning, “he only woke 4 times”] – but there have been some sunny days and plenty of outings in the fresh air. There was a first pony ride on a miniature Shetland called Samson, an afternoon with new baby lambs, and a holiday booked to Woolacombe in June with Auntie Cat. The weeks seem to be whizzing by faster than ever, and although I still hanker for time to slow down a little, I’m enjoying the current developments – the very nearly walking phase [come on Fred, you can do it!], and the brilliant toddler babble which Fredders enunciates so sweetly – babaggagamammadizzydoo. He gives kisses and cuddles, as well as sinking his gnashers into me and chuckling when I squeal. His current pastimes include removing his shoes and socks, taking momma’s books off the bottom shelf of the bookcase and showing off his new enthusiastic waving skills. Current dislikes include having his teeth cleaned, lying still for a nappy change, and Momma reclaiming her iPhone. He has character, and I fully approve of his cheekiness.

Going it alone is a tough one, but so rewarding … ours is a happy home; a happy chaotic home, with sticky fingerprints and copious amounts of hanging laundry. My lounge is akin to Toys R Us, and yes – he still sleeps in my bed. We have little in the way of a routine – but this life works for us … his smile tells me it works. What on earth would I do without him?

And now it must be time for Horlicks …

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