The sweetest thing

Tonight the little dude did his usual run renegade routine after the bath, but even more exuberantly than normal “mummy dtome chase me! Me paying dilly buddars” (playing silly buggers – yeah, ooops at that idiom being passed on). “Me aving a wild wumpus! Me wunning awound in dircles!”

For the sake of his future privacy, I’m not posting the photo I took of his naked bum peeking out from under the couch cushion “me djust hiding! Me being a durtle!”, but trust me, it was hilarious.

When I eventually got a nappy on him I said “thanks for co-operating, better late than never” and he said “me do-obiwading now”. Also, he calls his pajama pants his “sleeping trousers”, which comes out as “deeping dowderwis”.

Then bub started crying, so I took him away to rock him to sleep. The little dude is really good with accepting explanations like “Mummy needs to put Ben to bed now, so Daddy’s going to do stories and songs”. I gave him a kiss goodnight before I left the room and he said “and me dgive a diss doodnight for Ben as well”, and kissed bub on the head.

Earlier today, we’d had a nice morning out and then a challenging 45 minutes or so before his nap, standard stuff, he tipped his water bottle out on the floor deliberately (“on burbose Mummy!”) and then he ran away after I’d taken dirty nappy off but before I put new one on, then wouldn’t come back, and all this time I had bub asleep in the baby carry wrap so I was less able to wrangle big boy. I lost my patience with him and raised my voice, saying “it’s not funny, come back here right now for your nappy!” and he laughed and said “is a yiddle bit funny Mummy”. I put him in bed without a story or song because it was all taking so long and then I felt bad about it. He slept for ages, and at one stage I crept in to check on him and he’s lying there in a tiny corner of the bed, and he was tightly holding his very hard uncuddly music box while he slept.

Meanwhile, how cute is this baby. I haven’t written much about the baby. I didn’t write that much about the little dude as a baby either, I remember some pieces I discarded because they felt too gushy and mushy. Now I know those gushy thoughts have a short expiration date I want to record them better.

Bub doesn’t sleep in his cot during the day. I can either have an awake grizzly overtired unsettled baby, or I can have an asleep baby who is being carried on me in the baby wrap. I choose the second one. And we’re co-sleeping too, but even though I’m constantly near him, I want to slow down time in the relatively brief periods when he’s awake, because I’ll blink and miss it. He is fairly easy going and he has a big goofidy grin which he breaks out when I stroke his head after a feed. He comes off the breast all drunk and mellow and wobbly and he looks around, serious serious, figuring out the world; or he might catch my eye and smile me some big smiles. He likes nappy off time in front of the fireplace (new house has a gas fire – another point in favour of new house). His cry is more polite than the little dude’s was, less angry.

He likes to be in the baby carrier when awake as well as asleep. On Monday when the little dude was at creche, I went into town and bub looked jauntily out at the hustle as I walked from Cuba St to Lambton Quay. Bright yellow booties dangling down, hand-me-down from his brother, a gift from his aunty, soft sheepskin, I get so much pleasure taking him out in those booties and imagining how warm his feet must be.

I have in-jokes with the baby “you stay right there, I’ll be back soon” (lol! You can’t move! Of course you’re staying there!). Last night, bub had a bath and the little dude tipped a bucket of water on his tummy “me helping get Ben nice and dean!”, and there was a lot of splash onto bub’s head, and he didn’t even cry, just blinked in surprise. Such a chill bubba. With such a nice round tummy.

And blue eyes. Both boys have my husband’s eyes (mine are green). I find it satisfying that they match.


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