Eighth and ninth month birthday

Time, as you know, flies. At supersonic, Concordian speed. My baby is already two thirds of a year old, and I cannot believe there was ever a me before him. And yet at the same time, I cannot believe he’s really mine. Crazy. Being a parent, I have come to realise, is all about dichotomy.

So what’s been going on in Fig World since he was 7 months old? Well, in July, the sun continued to shine, and he played out a lot, in the garden…

…and in various parks:

He went on, and continues to go on, many hikes and walks strapped to mummy or daddy as though we were about to throw ourselves from a plane and hurtle earthwards in a tandem skydive.

He didn’t, and doesn’t, always stay awake. He also frequently insists on facing in the least interesting direction. Walk along the canal, loads of baby ducks and geese, bridges being raised for boats, locks filling and emptying? I’ll look at the hedge, thanks.

On rainy days, he’s spent some time on his computer…

…sorry, he’s spent some time on his computer:

He sent a message to Grandma after she had an operation…

…and you cannot imagine (or maybe you can) how long it took to get that picture.

A friend noted that he bore more than a passing resemblance to Snoopy’s mate…

…although he’s not always that cute and cuddly:

On the subject of eating, it’s gone better than we could ever have hoped. Fig has not yet refused a single thing we’ve given him, and I’m rising to that challenge by presenting him with ever more adventurous meals. A couple of nights ago, he had his first curry (not hot, but crammed with lovely spices) and guess what? He loved it. We’ve been so lucky. His favourite meals tend to be creamy, cheesy ones, like salmon and broccoli in bechamel, or pasta in a creamy spinach sauce. His pinching technique is well perfected now too, and he can pick up peas and sweetcorn kernals and pop them straight into his moof. But above all, he’s still a total fruitivore. Pear is currently about to oust mango from the number one spot, rocketing up the charts past even banana.

More recently, we’ve been on picnics…

…and we’ve even ventured into the big city, which blew Fig’s baby mind:

As well as crawling, another big on-the-move breakthrough for Fig has been his first ride in a supermarket trolley:

I think the jump from seven to nine months really has been one of the biggest in terms of his development. I cannot believe how many words he already recognises: in his playroom, surrounded by toys and crawling around like a maniac, if I say his name, he stops and looks at me, and if I say “Where is…?” he begins to look around at his toys. If I name “…monkey”, for example, he will keep looking till he sees monkey, then go over to it. He can do this with probably six or seven different toys, and will even throw it to me (not always 100% successfully) if I hold my hands out and say, “To mummy.” If we say, “Where are the birdies?” he looks at the window. If we say, “Do you want a drink?” after his food, he looks at the tap. He’s a smart little cookie, but you know what’s more important?  He’s a HAPPY little cookie, always laughing…

…unless something’s really grumped him out, in which case, even a nap in the car won’t shift that grudge:


And that’s it (except of course it doesn’t really even begin to cover it!), my nine month old bebe. He’s been outside me for the same amount of time he was inside me! I love him so much it aches, and I ache a little bit more every day. The leaves are starting to bronze around the edges, I will be back in work in 5 weeks, and the world we have known till now will fizzle out and be replaced by a slightly different one. But the one thing that will not ever ever change is how utterly utterly much I love this tiny guy.:



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