Dearest, sweetest Grub,
The other Mummies do monthly posts about what their baby is doing, the things that have changed, the new cool things bubba can do this month. I am a bad Mummy. You have not had your monthly posts. Even your real-life paper diary sits, sadly neglected, only a few long, long catch-up entries about the most delicious joy that is my Grub. I am sorry, my darling, this four kids thing, what can I say – busy.
Each day we wonder at the incredible person you are.There is not a wishy-washy bone in your body, you are so utterly you, your personality is stamped on everything you do.
You are not yet eleven months old and yet you seem so self possessed, so certain of what you want from moment to moment. It is a new joy for me, watching a child like you grow. I have done placid babies. I have done fractious babies. You are neither. You are sweet and loving and affectionate. You can turn in a moment and become enraged. Angry and fierce in your determination to have your way. So forthright that we cannot help but laugh at the way you make your position known.
You are convinced that you are not a baby. You have been walking for about six weeks now. People laugh when they see you. So small and yet there you are, walking over to the window to bang on it until we let you outside.
If I had to choose a phrase to describe you, “easy going” would not be it. You are wiley like a fox. People outside of our immediate family rarely see anything other than our sweet-faced and cheeky poppet. You are this, it’s true but you can’t stand the thought that you may miss out on something because of your junior status. You scream and slap and kick if we will not give you what you desire. People think we are making it up, I think you know to charm the outsiders.
You are so very clever, you have begun talking. Repeating peoples names, telling me when you want to get up or have a drink. Naturally, your words are pretty interesting approximations of what you are really trying to say but you make your intent so clear that we understand you easily. You understand us too. That’s the scary bit. You are so aware of what is happening around you. Watching, learning. I am amazed by all of the things you already know.
So, I’m sorry, precious sweetheart, that I have not been writing all of this down. You have been keeping me on my toes…
But in large parts I have just been busy spending my time holding you, nuzzling your soft neck, taking note of the cankles and rubber-band wrists, that will disappear all too soon; cuddling you close and breathing in your sweet baby smell because, as your Daddy is only too happy to remind me, you are a toddler now.