So much time passing and at such speed it slips through my fingers. & still that feeling of not justifying it's passing and doing life a disservice through my lack of textual attention to it's ups and downs.
The Baby is now rolling both ways which is awfully fun for him, however despite doing enough sit-ups to have ab's of steel he is yet to sit unaided. You sit him up and he rather amusingly wibbles and wobbles but unlike a weeble he does indeed fall down. He is tremendously close to the art of crawling and as such has a tendancy to get rather pissed off at his inability to nail it. He can get right up on his knees, and face plant on the floor...he can get on the tips of his toes and the flats of his hands and he can shunt and army crawl backwards which is fabulously funny to watch despecially as he can scale the length of half the room that way.
Oh and my god the shouting, he does indeed have a cracking pair of lungs on him and isn't shy of using them with this brain tazering shout that is akin to a crow being brutally murdered.
He is ever nearing the half birthday when I shall be forced to start weaning, we're bypassing that pesky unecessary puree stage and going straight on to real foods which he shall feed himself. This worked wonderfully well with The Girl Child yet I fear it was so long ago that i'm quite at a loss of where to start as am suffering from a tad of anxiety not singularly created by the fact The Baby is simply growing up too fast!
He's still co-sleeping and a boobie-monster which I can't see changing anytime soon and nor would I wish it too and he is still as of yet not been in his pram as we favour the sling.
I have a curious addiction to fluff, that is to say cloth nappies which I obsess and lust over making me painfully aware of how much i've changed. Once it was cd's, pvc, hair dye and velvet Icovetted andn now it's cheap funky cloth nappies from China.
The Boy Child has settled in nicely into year 2 as far as we are aware though it will be interesting to say the least to talk to his teacher at parents evening seeing as he continues to be increasingly hard work to live with at home. He is delightfully cute, handsome, funny, lively, friendly and clever and yet he's obnoxious, back chatting, disrespectful, distractful, impulsive, rude and begs the question of wether he is in control of his behaviour or wether perchance it may be indeed controlling him.
The Girl Child has started nursery and by some strike of luck appears to adore it, we genuinley thought it would be incredibly hard for her but as usual you goes above and beyond to surprise us. She is attending two mornings a week for now as depsite being entitled to five half days i'm painfully aware that once they start reception they're in the school system full time for the next ten years so i'm enjoying her at home, she's such an agreeable little child (& frightfully clever)
The Husband is disturbingly swinging between Jekyll and Hyde, exploding one minute and baking cakes with 'I Luv You' in chocolate chips on the top of next...simply boggling. Still he makes a rather decent cake so shan't complain, for now.
I guess that just leaves yours truly, how am I? well quite, how *am* I indeed? I beg you to tell me for I don't really know. I suppose that then begs the question of who am I too to which I don't know the answer to that either. I feels fuzzy at the edges and faded in the middle and eerily vacant on the inside. Bother bother bother.