M2T - The continuing adventures

Well, I'm back.

Trogdor is now 10 months old. Ten months and a bit. When I made my last post Spidermonkey and I were 6 days away from meeting our son. He was still tucked away safely inside me and I, looking like an ancient fertility goddess (all stomach and boobs), was sitting on the sofa, surrounded by boxes we were yet to unpack, wondering if labour was ever going to start.

Five days later I was wondering if labour were ever going to finish.

Now, he is napping on the mattress in his room. The feet of his onesies are black with dirt - we spent the morning planting a garden. He is teething, and crawling, and his top lip is crusty with snot and grot from the planter boxes. He's feeding like a newborn at night - which is ironic as he didn't feed like that when he was a newborn, and he giggles hysterically whenever I walk through the door. He claps and laughs, he sings tunelessly and dances arrhythmical (much like his mother), he loooooves booba (much like his father), he is fascinated by light and plays with glow sticks endlessly. He soaks up love like a human sponge and it pours out of him and back into the world in general. He is a terrible flirt. All of our affection and attention are seen as fitting tributes and he accepts them with all the entitlement of a little deity. In return he is himself. Sometimes happy. Sometimes sad. Grumpy. Clingy. Loving. Independent. Joyous. Cranky. Cheeky. Playful.

I am sitting on the floor, with my back against our new, easy to clean, leather sofa. The boxes are (mostly) unpacked and I am surrounded by toys, cushions and discarded glow sticks. My figure remains largely unchanged...