Now I’ve really been neglecting this blog. My main excuse has been that I couldn’t find the camera. So thankfully I did recover it from the backseat of my car today, and managed to upload pictures from Mark and Oliver’s trip to the UK.
They were only there for a week, but crammed in lots of family time. Of course, as Mark was in charge of picture taking, we are missing any photos of my family that he visited (my grandmother, and aunt and uncle), and even some of his (his mother, step-father, cousins, etc.). It’s just not his forte.
I could easily make a joke here about Oliver being pictured with a member of Mark’s family but I won’t, I must be feeling generous – they were visiting Twycross Zoo in Warwickshire and there’s lots of photos of pointing at monkeys and such. I will assume he’s not sitting on a live one:
And on the common father-son obsession of choo-choos:
We’re attempting to prepare him for the arrival of number 2. This is slightly difficult as he can’t really conceptualize it. He does know to point at my stomach and say ‘baby’. We’ve got him a couple of books about being a brother, and he also likes to point at them and talk about the baby. But then he also talks about the balls and apples and other things in the books. What can you do. I bought him a present today from his brother, as I have read that suggestion in many places – so hopefully the trauma of the new thing in the house will be reduced by a digger with sound and lights. Knowing him, it will.
His language has come on incredibly well lately. There’s so many words that he used to sort of say, that he can now say clearly. And lots of two- and three-word phrases being bandied about. I don’t think I could even try to count how many words he knows now. Which is nice when he can actually mostly communicate what he wants. Although he does still like to use the point and grunt option.
Unfortunately, he is fully aware that he can get out of his bed now, and bed time has turned into a bit of a game, with him continuing to escape with blankets and pillows and such, despite having said ‘buh-bye’ and putting himself in there. It’s becoming frustrating, so we have to be on a mission not to let it be a game anymore. And also I think we’re realizing that he’s just not ready to go to bed at 7 anymore. Perhaps 7:30 or 8pm is more realistic unless he’s not had a lot of sleep during the day.
My latest addiction is multiple glasses of crushed ice from our fridge with cold water. And I crunch on the ice. I’ve got sensitive teeth, I normally keep ice very far away from my mouth. But it feels and tastes so damn good! And there’s something nice about the bits of cold ice going down my throat as I often feel like a furnace. Weird. Mmm, must go replenish my glass now…