You want to help us do everything now. You love pressing the buttons on the washing machine at my instruction, and you give a pleased smirk when the load starts running. We were unloading the groceries on Saturday morning and I turned around to see you pulling items out of one of the bags and carrying them over to the pantry all by yourself. And today I caught you pulling your dry clothes off the line and dropping them into the waiting basket.
You love cooking. You watch us intently when we chop and mix, whingeing until we lift you up to show you what we’re doing. You help Cec make her coffee every morning. You have a little play set that you practice stirring and pouring with, and you invariably insist on feeding us the imaginary fruits of your labour.
Now that the weather is warmer, we go for a walk after dinner each night, to let you burn off the last of your energy before your bath. You climb down the stairs to the courtyard by yourself (backwards on your knees), and then you squeal and run, shaking your hands in front of you with your fingers splayed out, unable to contain your glee at being outside again. You yell “enh!” and point whenever you see a dog, and try to follow it. You stop in every doorway along the way and climb the step and stand there as if it’s your own personal, miniature stage. On the last leg of our walk you get tired and insist Cec carry you, only her, never me.
You’re starting to use more words now, and it thrills me. Mama, Cec, Tata (what they call “grandpa” in Cec’s family), tickle, up, no, yum, yuck, Jacinta (Cec’s family’s dog- so clearly it stuns me). Cec’s mum has been trying to teach you Abuela (grandma) for ages and on the weekend you finally started calling her “teta”, which is hilarious because it’s Spanish for boob. We told her she should be flattered since it’s your favourite thing.
Speaking of, you still fall asleep for the night feeding, more nights than most. On the ones you don’t, I sit on the floor near your cot while you do the Silas Show of throwing all your cuddlies out of your cot, babbling, tumbling and rolling around until the babbling gets quieter and the rolling gets slower and you eventually fall asleep. Half the time you wake in the night and I bring you to our bed, half the time you sleep through. Our day still starts at the crack of dawn, any time between 4 and 5am. Thankfully I’m a morning person, and I guess you are too.
You throw some impressive tantrums and I watch your tiny body and mind try to process your frustration. I do my best to give you space, empathy or a distraction depending on the situation.
We have a great routine to our week at the moment. Mondays we catch up with friends, run errands, go to parks and cook dinner. Tuesdays you’re with Abuela, Wednesdays with grandma, Thursdays we go to swimming lessons and go on more outdoor adventures, Fridays you play with all your little mates at daycare. On the weekends we go exploring and we visit people as our little family of three.
Life is great with you in it, kid.