Eight Month Old Reflections...
Lately there has been a cheeky addition to our family's dynamic. Well, I say "lately" when really what I mean is eight months ago, it was just waiting to come out and be known.
It comes in the form of my eight month old son, Roman. Those of you who know me - who seem to make up the readership of this blog - will know Roman either through pictures or in the flesh (chubby goodness mmm).
And very recently this boy has chunked up (I'm merely stating this in a playfully cute manner and by no means wish to cause him future body issues) and got mobile.
And oh man has he been giving us the run around. He won't even sit still for feeds. I'm so convinced of Ants in Pants syndrome that I think he must boogie in his sleep.
I remember (ever so faintly) that little 10 pound, one and a half ounce newborn who wouldn't take to his rather simple and baby friendly musical toys but would boogie and bop his head side to side to the music of our parent's generation. Queen, Big Country et al. I remember that looooooonnng trip to Thurso for the first time with a four month old who got fed up quickly of sitting in his seat - although I don't blame him, it was a very, very, very long trip indeed. And if we go back even further to say, a year ago, I remember that little boy who we thought was a girl (sorry dude!) bouncing around inside me, like it was a non-stop party.
It's just so strange to go from the little parcel of sleepiness into this busy little boy who loves to get around on the floor, pick up everything dangerous in sight and hang out of his play nest and his baby seat because he wants to know what's under there, or over there and ooh that looks good to eat/touch/feel/pinch/grab/put in mouth.
I know that things will only get busier.
Eight months on I can say it's true. I've loved him more and more every day, but every day it feels like it couldn't possibly grow any more. And that I'm perfectly (and blissfully) happy in this state of parenthood.
And lately he's turned into such a little personality...
