It’s April already! Yikes. This means that, even though it’s still nearly two months away, I can say that Ted will be two at the end of next month.
(Not that I’m expecting a sudden influx of queries about his age. It just struck me the other day: how close his birthday is and how it doesn’t seem like two minutes since his first. SOB.)
(And yes, that’s the ‘time going so fast’ cliché present and correct. Just five sentences in, too!)
I’m not happy about how quickly time is passing, but I’ve spotted a silver lining. Soon, I’ll no longer have to faff about with the ‘he’s just turned 15 months’ or ‘he’s almost 20 months’ level of detail required when saying a baby or toddler’s age. (Well, until the next baby…)
It’s all very specific, isn’t it? I suppose it’s to do with how a lot can happen in a month when you’re one; there’s often a world of difference between, say, a 13 month old and a 19 month old.
If we get all deep though, it feels like it’s all linked to our general preoccupation with comparison, of hitting milestones and everybody needing to be the same as everyone else. You need to be walking by 12 months and have a mortgage by 30. (Years not months, that is. I don’t wish to panic anyone.)
My ridiculous, Competitive Mum side is definitely a fan of informing people of Ted’s precise age: “No, Ted hasn’t uttered a proper sentence, and he’s yet to master Beethoven’s Piano Concerto Number 5. But that’s because he’s only 22 months and eight days! Come back in two months and then ask him!”
So part of me will be glad for Ted to get to two, because then he’ll just be two, and we can do away with the counting in months.
(Although it’s just occurred to me that the months thing might turn into fractions instead. “He’s two and a half.” “He’s three and a sixth.” Drat. I hated fractions at school.)
Anyway. While we’re on the subject of maths…our beloved 22-months-and-eight-days-old boy is still MAD on the CBeebies show, Numberblocks, which for some reason he calls ‘vavar’.
He still counts to ten at every opportunity, and shouts out numbers on houses (and anywhere) and sometimes recites them properly up to 20 but other times makes up his own from 12 onwards.
His other great love, which I don’t think I’ve mentioned on here before, is Liam Gallagher. Not Oasis. And certainly not Noel. But Liam Gallagher’s solo work, and specifically three songs from his album.
For months now, he has been thoroughly bewitched by Liam G. On many an occasion (usually pre-meltdown/pre-nap), we have put his videos on YouTube and Ted will sit, silent and transfixed.
I have wondered whether it’s because Ted thinks Liam looks like Graham…which is quite possible, particularly as G has an unfathomable obsession with Liam’s overpriced clothing range, Pretty Green. I think it’s part of his mid-life crisis.
(Pretty Green is rumoured to be heading for administration, which is very upsetting for poor G. He’s probably kept it afloat singlehandedly in recent months.)
Anyway, Ted’s love for Liam has got us out of a few pre-mealtime meltdowns recently. Ted’s tantrums probably haven’t been as bad as last month, but we still have the odd one, usually when I’m getting tea ready and he wants to come into the kitchen and get everything out of the cupboards.
When Ted’s about to throw a wobbly at not being able to get his mitts on some Knorr Stock Pots (“Stock!”), G pops Liam on his phone and speaker and all is well again. Stock Pots forgotten, a sense of calm restored. Magic. Thank you, Liam.
It’s difficult to imagine what life will be like with baby number 2, who could be here in just four months’ time. Agh! Ted’s not yet aware of what’s going on, but that might change in a few months of course. (BECAUSE HE’S ONLY 22 MONTHS AND EIGHT DAYS, YOU KNOW!)
Baby has been quite active the last week or so, and although we’re not at the Alien stage of little fists and feet trying to break free yet, I can already see my stomach twitching and moving. I will try to always remember how mad and lovely it is.
I’m 23 weeks now, which is almost at the end of the second trimester. Already! I’ve felt fine, although maybe a bit more uncomfortable with indigestion than I remember from last time. Almost every pregnant person I’ve ever known has complained about heartburn and having to neck a daily bottle of Gaviscon though, so I think I’ve been let off lightly, so far. Oh and my skin is horrendously dry, like a leathery lizard. But also spotty. Wonderful.
And I’m not sleeping brilliantly, even though Ted is – touch wood – still sleeping through, which doesn’t bode well for the next four months. My dry, scaly lizard legs are always itchy and I’m already paranoid about not sleeping on my back or right side (which can prevent proper circulation) and so of course I now only want to sleep on my back or my right side. Woe.
Considering I said I felt fine I had quite a lot to moan about there, didn’t I? And that’s without mentioning Ted’s sickness bug (another one!) that I seemed to catch too, in a mild form; I had a night a couple of weekends ago of feeling very sick indeed.
Poor Ted wasn’t himself for over a week, but seemed on the mend last weekend. Until he was sick all over my mum, and on the floor of the very nice restaurant we were in to celebrate Mum’s birthday and Mother’s Day. He was right as rain, as they say, immediately afterwards.
(It took us longer to recover from the sh*tty attitude of the staff in the restaurant: they didn’t ask if Ted was OK, one was particularly rude and they generally made us feel like lepers. Thanks Humber Fish Co!)
Work-wise, I got a paid writing commission the other week – hurray! – which I’m very pleased about, so feel that things are heading in the right direction, even if I haven’t got my book deal just yet. Next month, perhaps…
Anyway, I’ll sign off now because there is some carrot cake downstairs that is just screaming out to be eaten by a leathery lizard preggo lady. (I bought myself a Specially Selected Carrot cake from Aldi the other day and have nearly eaten it all in three days, which I suppose could be viewed as a new low. Or a high, depending on your take on life.)
Thank you for reading, bye for now x
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Hello, I'm Laura. I write about parenting, life, style, building a business and finding success on your own terms.
You'll find plenty here to get your teeth into. (Useless pun very much intended...) X
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