>The boy is now walking. This is cool.
He’s got a Frankenstein’s Monster walk going on at the minute, with occasional stops to do the occasional squat or he’ll just turn around and toddle off the way he just came. This however brings it’s own new set of issues. There are now things that are head hight that that weren’t before.
I’m considering buying 5 new matresses that I will assemble around him and I will dub this “The Pentagon of Comfort” so he can bounce back and fore all day long without him giving his mother and I terminal migranes.
Also the door handles are now not mere conundrums, just objects that provide access to previously unacessable parts of the house (which is what they are designed for I suppose) The table is a climbing frame, on which trying to get up he does a fantastic karate style kick movement.
On the stairs he’s reached a level of speed comparable to this.
The teething is still an issue. They’re slowly getting there, but knowing that he’s suffering from it has made my brain imagine a situation where I’m threatening to punch out the tooth fairy. This might be unfair however, as I’m not sure if the tooth fairy is responsible for putting the teeth there in the first place. So I could be threatening a poor mythical creature who’s just doing their job without having to worry about Kato style attacks coming from all angles.
I can’t wait for him to start speaking properly. At the moment he’s got “Mam” under his belt (despite the fact I’ve been told that “Dad” is quite often the first word. I’m not bitter…), a selection of quizzical noises that combines with a hand expression that’s reminiscent to someone discovering a series link recording of The Wire has actually turned out to have recorded Dad’s Army instead.
For reasons my brain can’t explain, I sometimes expect him to start reciting the opening passage of Pride and Prejudice (though I’d have to check with my wife first as I’ve never read it). But whatever his next foray into language may be, I’ll adore him for it. I’ll hug him and ask him to say again and again.
Of course I’ll be cursing the day I wish for him to start speaking when he’s said “cake” three hundred and fifty two times in the space of 5 minutes.