A bit late with this, again, but very keen to ensure I keep up with these monthly updates, for posterity as they say. The goal is to post the next one on 1 April – no fooling around, ho ho – and then on the first of the month after that. Didn’t I say that last time?
Anyway. Gorgeous Ted at nine months. Still not crawling, but he is definitely mobile: we have lots of rolling, and he’s adept at using his arms to manoeuvre across the laminate floor or spin round in complete 360° turns. And at quite a ferocious speed too, when he spots something he wants – usually a phone charger or a vase of flowers or the big lightbox with the sharp-edged letters. So lots of our time is spent on the floor, currently, with Ted propelling himself towards such hazards and me saying ‘where are you going?’ ‘what are you doing?’ several times a minute.
(For some reason, in my head I sound a bit like Sybil Fawlty when saying ‘where are you going?’ i.e. “WHERE ARE YOU GOING, BASIL?” I really don’t know why. It might be because my voice takes on a booming, nasal quality and suddenly I’ve got a 70s up-do that probably shouldn’t be described as an up-do because it’s so unflattering, and I’m wearing a polyester skirt suit.)
(In my head, not real life obviously. In real life I’m still in pjs and my hair is worse than Sybil’s, so I’m in no position to be ‘throwing shade’, as they say.)
(Also, I realise that the frequency with which I ask these ‘where are you going?’ questions is only going to increase along with Ted’s mobility. I’ll be full blown, full time Sybil by the time he’s two. Poor Ted. Poor Graham.)
As well as morphing into Sybil Fawlty, I am also fast becoming an Anxious and Competitive Mum. I know how ridiculous this is, but receiving Ted’s 9 month questionnaire ‘test’ thing from the health visitor, ahead of her visit in a few weeks’ time, has made me a bit concerned about his development.
Before I read the sodding questionnaire, I was convinced my boy is a genius, because, well, just look at him, he’s amazing etc etc. And then I read the questionnaire (which is a long list of things that your baby may or may not be doing by 9 months, and you have to tick whether they are doing it, sometimes do it, or haven’t yet done it) and now I prop him up against his cot every morning to see whether he can hold on unaided and without resting against it, because this is one of the things the sodding questionnaire makes you think he should be able to do by now, and does this mean he’s ‘behind’ if he can’t? (He can’t.)
In fact, there are quite a few things on this list that he can’t yet do: tying his shoelaces, riding a bike, solving a Countdown conundrum etc.
I’m joking of course, but some of them seem very ‘grown-up’ and very far away from where Ted is now, developmentally, so they might as well be that ridiculous. At the same time I know I’M being ridiculous as I’m sure he’s pretty much on track with most things, and the whole thing of monitoring/testing your child’s progress is only going to get more intense so I shouldn’t be getting my knickers in a twist yet, while he’s so small…but I am feeling it a bit already.
Very silly, I know.
Especially as, at the same time, I am in absolutely no hurry whatsoever for him to grow up and start walking and solving Countdown conundrums and not be a baby anymore. SOB.
Anyway – we have other developments to report, of the dental variety. Ted’s bottom two teeth finally popped through about two weeks ago. At first, I could feel them but he refused to let me look at them more closely. I had to wrestle with him and he got a bit cross, and he kept clamping his tongue down so I couldn’t get a proper look.
I like to imagine it’s because he wants to do a big reveal of a killer smile, Hollywood makeover style, and won’t let anyone see until those gnashers are looking 100%. I was a bit concerned about breastfeeding now we have teeth to contend with, but there have been no issues to report. A few nips on the old nips, but nothing more so far, touch wood.
The sleep situation has vastly improved over the last month. I can’t believe I’m being quite nonchalant about it, when sleep – or lack of, obviously – seemed to occupy my thoughts every waking moment (of which there were lots, because, er, Ted was always awake) for so bloody long. There’s the thing of not wanting to jinx it, and also because we still don’t seem to have that much of a pattern – last week he woke up at 11pm and then at 2am one night, 11pm and 3pm another night, which I was a bit miffed about because prior to that, he’d only been waking up once. (Miffed about two wake-ups! The me of a few months ago would punch me in the face and tell me I don’t know I’m born.)
Last night he woke up around midnight and slept til 6.30, and the night before he slept 7-5am, and then 5.30am – 7am. Anyway, regardless of the details, at the moment, the hell of four wake-ups a night seems a distant memory, but I will never be smug or take it for granted, because I am always convinced that those awful sleepless nights will return.
Finally, we have lots of babble. Mainly DADADADADADAD so far, which is lovely to hear. Obviously ‘MUM’ would have been better as a first word, and a nice thank you for the aforementioned sleepless nights, but I can wait. Just not too long though, eh Ted?