Posted by: Fern | April 21, 2007

Month Two

Dear Bedey Boy,

Enjoying bathtimeA few days ago you hit two months old, and spent this monumental day with your Nana instead of Dad and I, why? Because we needed to move from our flat into a four bedroom house just to accommodate all of the stuff you’ve accumulated in your eight short weeks of life. Not until I had to carry it all down three flights of stairs did I realise just how spoilt you were, and yet I still can’t resist going into Toys R Us or Target everytime we’re at the mall, just to see if I can pick up something small for you.

You’ve started smiling now, not sleepy or gassy smiles, big beaming ones when Dad plays with your feet, or you’re dunked in the bath, you’ve also fully embraced your inner naturist and now seem to spend half of your day on the changing mat with your junk out. I’m all for the unashamed nakedity, but I would like some kind of warning before you pee all over our lovely new plush blue carpet, Mum isn’t quite so fast with the flannel as you would imagine.

You’re slowly discovering that there is life away from the boob, you’ll sit in the bouncer for a full four minutes now before realising that you’re not the centre of attention and pitching a fit until someone talks to you. You can hold a rattle for a few minutes and seem to forget that it’s there and jump out of your skin when you move your hand only to discover the thing in it makes noise, you’ll then repeat this a few moments later.

Morning lay-in with daddy

Nana Lynda has introduced you to the telly, after me barely having it on for your first month of life, we went to spend a few days at her place and you became hooked at the funny box full of lights and sound. You’ve quickly developed a love of Jessica Fletcher and her crime fighting abilities, which I will admit, are pretty good for an old chick. I even woke up at midnight and went to the lounge to find your grandmother explaining the storyline of the first two Omen movies to you whilst you sat on her lap watching the third, just so that you wouldn’t be confused about what was going on.

In the new slingYou’ve officially grown out of all of your newborn clothes, at least lengthways, you’re so tall that nothing fits you in the length, but so slim that everything is too big on your waist, you’re going to end up a beanpole like your father, in fact, the more you grow each day I start to wonder whether I was actually present at your conception, everyone that looks at you says how you’re just like you’re Dad, the best I’ve had so far is that you have my fingers and sometimes I’m even doubtful about that. As you’re growing like a beanstalk I’ve taken the opportunity to pack your 0000 sizes away with my maternity gear and the few pink items I bought, just incase you turned out to be a Robyn instead of a Declan. It was a funny feeling putting them away, I notice changes everyday how you’ve grown and developed, but to have to put away your clothes just made it real, and although I sometimes would like to undo you a month or so, to before you discovered my hair and just how much fun it was to tug on, I love watching you grow up and slowly make the transition from little newborn blob into a gurgling baby who could probably out do a St Bernard in a drooling contest.

Love, Mum


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