This is going to be a bit of a speed-typing exercise, and a stream of consciousness post that might be one of my akin-to-paint-drying specials, so apologies in advance.
I’m two weeks late in sticking to my monthly Ted update – the last one was his 15 month update and he’s 16 and a half months old now, if we’re being nitpicky. And it’s getting close to 9pm on a Monday evening and I am motherflippin exhausted, but I didn’t want to leave it for another day and have not written one of these for-posterity notes about my beautiful boy.
However, I think I’ll switch things around from now on, and write a monthly review type post about everything, not just Ted’s development… I’m mulling over a slight change of direction with the website, with more ‘entrepreneur’/ self-employment focused content alongside lifestyle and parenting stuff, which is a laugh if only for the fact that entrepreneur is one word that I struggle to pronounce every time I try. ONTROPONURRR – is that it?
Anyway, if Ted was to try and say ‘entrepreneur’ it would come out as ‘atchoo’. If Ted was to try and say ‘cat’ it would come out as ‘atchoo’. If Ted was to try and say ‘mummy stop taking the mick out of my lack of speech I am 16 months old FFS’ it would come out as ‘atchoo’. Ted says ‘atchoo’ for everything. It is the only ‘word’ he can say that isn’t babble. Gray taught him to fake sneeze a few weeks ago and he has since uttered ‘atchoo’ approximately 357 times a day ever since.
I thought we had a breakthrough a day or two ago, when we were teaching him to say ‘cheese’ and he said what did in fact sound like ‘cheese’. Hurrah! But then he turned it into a variation of his beloved word, and so it became ‘atchee’.
It is completely endearing, of course, but part of me – the Anxious and Competitive Mum part – wonders when he might grow out of it and when he might actually start saying some REAL words and if he might always only say ‘atchoo’ and ‘atchee’.
Gray is rueing the day that he first started repeating bloody ‘atchee’, no sorry ‘atchoo’, to Ted. And Ted of course is completely oblivious and is happily atchooing and atcheeing his way from morning – which starts at 5am these days GRRRRRRRRR – ‘til night.
What else? I’ve started taking him to a swimming ‘class’ on a Monday afternoon, which he mostly loves. ‘Class’ is used loosely – it’s mainly him bobbing along propped up by me, and I get a full-on workout during the parts where the mums are told to throw babies in the air. ‘Mind their heads on the ceiling, ho ho’ chortles the instructor man, who today asked me if Ted was called Alice.
Ted’s been mistaken for a girl a couple of times recently; Gray says it’s because I dress him in ‘girls’ clothes’. I don’t, and I get cross about this. I DO hate overly ‘boy’/’girl’ clothes and just want Ted to wear lovely clothes that do not always have to have trucks or tractors on them. And Ted was wearing a blue suit in the pool today anyway!
Final thing to mention, before I collapse onto my laptop, today Ted climbed up the stairs twice, onto the settee a few times and onto Mow’s pouffe* more times than I could count. This perhaps is not the most riveting of news – I did warn you – but he has only just started climbing and so of course now I’m fraught with worry that he’ll be shimmying up the drainpipe the next time my back is turned.
His other favourite pastime – alongside emptying cupboards, the one in the kitchen with the tins and the herbs etc is a particular favourite at the moment – is going up and down the slope in the park near our house. Up and down, up and down x 682. I am going to count how may times we do it next visit and perhaps put us in for a Guinness World Record because Ted likes to go up and down A LOT.
RIGHT, BED TIME.
BYE FOR NOW X
*Mow is the cat, who has his own pouffe