Today you are 4 months old. You love to stand, you talk to us in your baby ‘ah goooooo’ language. You watch, you copy, you dribble. You feed, all day, every day With. Out. Stopping. You are huge, considering the baby you are. You are twisting and turning and trying to turn over, kicking and scrabbling with determination. You love to sit in your daddies arms and watch the rugby, the cricket, the grand prix. He thinks it is because you already like sports. I think it is because you already know how to spin a trick and wrap him round your finger.
This week there has been time in the garden and a desperate dash to hospital when I thought maybe you were going to be snatched from me. Fury at a blood test. Smiles for the nurses. You’ve watched your sisters dance in a show, taking it all in and started wearing tops and trousers and proper clothes.
You demand to be the centre of the world and goodness knows, you are. But you wear it gracefully, for all you never sleep in the day and demand undivided attention. You still sleep all night and for as long as that lasts, I thank you. Sunny, smiley, happy in the arms of anyone, sparkling with interest and inquisitiveness already. Supermarkets don’t impress you much though.
So big and still so little, sleeping on a shoulder when it all gets too much and even milk won’t do.
So little and already so big, busy watching everything.
Still got blue eyes. Not quite so blue, but still blue. Not grey yet, not brown. Reaching and grabbing and holding things with maybe your left hand more…. Who knows? We’ll see.
I know who you are. I’ve seen you before in two of your sisters. You are going to leave me stunned while not surprising me at all, I think. Who am I kidding? Well be surprised all the time.
Heaven help us all.