Soft golden curls.
Pointing out every bus he sees when we’re driving in the car “bus!!! BUS!!”, so excited, just thrilled by the delight of the big yellow trolley buses.
Climbing on everything, no sense of self-preservation, everything is worth exploring, total faith that an adult will be on hand to catch him or to warn him or pick him up after a tumble.
Says “bye bye” when we turn a page of a book. Loves books. Sits out my lap to read when I’m cross-legged on the floor by backing himself up then plonking himself down.
Says “yay!” whenever he’s pleased with himself. He climbs to the top of the stairs and puts his arms above his head and says “YAY! YAAAAYYY!”.
Little boy racer, little explorer. Loves sliding doors but is too short to trigger the sensors. Loves elevators. Would happily ride up and down an elevator indefinitely. Have not yet found a place where he can do this without causing inconvenience.
Loves to run in a straight line, barrelling along on a mission to get as far as possible as quickly as possible, as soon as I let him out of my arms. Loves to be a free agent.
Keen to learn how to give me a kiss on the cheek but hasn’t quite mastered it yet.
Loves to press buttons at road crossings.
Likes to wear gumboots all the time.
Enjoys riding in his buggy, but enjoys pushing his buggy even more.
His face is round but his body is long and lithe.
Totally boundless sense of humour, totally gorgeous laughter, a giggle and belly laugh that lasts until he runs out of breath.
When he cries the tone is one of betrayal and outrage.
When he is asleep he still looks like a baby.
He’s exhausting and beautiful and energising.