I forget about these types of posts and then all of a sudden, I’ll be standing holding Sonny and he’ll totally out of the blue exclaim in a loud voice, “KISS!” and then I’ll melt on the spot and simultaneously remind myself that these posts documenting nothing (everything) but the boys’ changes are really and truly the most important writing to me and are the essence of why I blog. Then I read this article by my all time hero Janet, and I feel compelled to put pen to paper and document my babes. So February 2018, where we at?
Sonny, let’s start with you. This seems fitting too as you have well and truly morphed from a baby in to a boy. You’re 20 months old which as far as I can remember with Jack, was the age I found most challenging. You have boundless energy and are non stop – you want to see and touch and eat and say EVERYTHING and don’t even think about putting you in a highchair; you will sit at a table for approximately 3 and a half minutes. And yet the next minute you’ll be asking for your “ish” (sheep; Ewan), wanting to sit on “lap” and asking for your dummy. You love being held by me or your pops, or sat on my lap, and shout “carr-ee, carr-ee” holding on to my ankles looking up at me which is equally exhausting as it is cute. You ask for “hand” but soon you are desperate to break free – and then you’ll run as fast as your legs will take you.
You are sleeping a lot right now and without wishing to jinx myself, you sleep through the night, wake late in the morning, and nap for a few hours each day too. Your love affair with trains and Peppa Pig has taken off (just like it did with Jack) and I watch you lying face flat on the floor, rolling your trains slowly back and forth, just like Jack used to do. And your language. HOLY MOLY Sonny, new words pop up every single day. Jack wasn’t anywhere near talking at your age so I’ve not really known what it is to have a toddler telling me I have “ummus on face”. I guess you’re learning from your brother. Speaking of which, Sonny, you are not big into sharing right now, especially food but I’ve no doubt that this will change over time. You watch Jack, not overtly so but enough to copy his every move and copy him when he splashes in the bath or comes up with a funny word. You want to be close to him and he to you, and watching your relationship bloom is surely one of the biggest blessings there is.
Jack. Dude. Son. Friend. Is it normal that I go to you for genuine answers to things in life? OK not big things, but more like “Jack, where should these cushions go?” Or Jack, “what shall I wear today?” But still, you are crazy mature and I know I’m biased but I think you’re smart. You can read words (thanks to my mother in law who spends hours teaching and reading with him), you can spell your name, and you just seem to know SO MUCH it blows my mind. Your curiosity about life is beautiful and your imagination is off the charts; most mornings you’ll recount to me your dreams and I watch and wait for you to find the words to express what has been going on in your mind – usually jungles and tigers. I depend on you for so much now, whether reading Sonny to sleep or helping me make dinner. Which reminds me: the best way of getting you to do anything at the moment is by timing you. You love the challenge and I love the result (my slippers, mug, pen etc etc) so it works well for both of us. I’m so enjoying cooking with you too, and have you taste all the food we make together. It’s only when you’re tired that you become slightly badly behaved and we talk about “rude Jack” coming out. I feel like you don’t really like toys anymore, and would rather explore the real world. Right now, it’s gone 9pm (you’re still jetlagged, I think?), and as I write this, you’re lying on the floor beside me just playing with an old box. You occupy yourself wonderfully and I just let you get one with it. You and Sonny are becoming a real double act; most nights he will crawl into your bed and you’ll both clamber over each other until I have to gently prize you apart. Generally, you share your toys with him nicely and have come to realise that nothing belongs to only one of you in this house. There’s the occasional conflict, but I try not to get involved and instead wait (there’s that word again) in the sidelines until you often end up resolving it alone.
This month, perhaps because I’m not working, has been a real joy to mother you both. I wake up genuinely excited about where the day will take us; whether it’s no further than the couch or across the city, the adventures and the cakes and the walks and the baths and every other tiny bit in between with you two make me who I am today, so thank you.
P.P.S The four letter word that helps me discipline my kids