Guess what? You have now been “out” for as many weeks as you had been “in”. Officially. Unofficially, there was no way that I was even pregnant in week 1 but as far as the medical profession is concerned, you were born at 41 weeks gestation and now here you are. Over the last couple of months I have been considering how long I could keep up weekly letters to you and at one point, I though I might stop here. It seemed poetic in a way, and lets face it, I can be quite lazy but you are still changing so rapidly that there is too much to say. Each week is different from the last.
This week, we traumatised you a little. We took you to the beach. But it wasn’t the great big ocean or the breaking waves that were the problem. It wasn’t the sand that shifted under your feet. No. You were perfectly happy on the beach itself, gazing out towards the water. What you were not so happy about was your father insisting on taking you into the freezing cold ocean when it was overcast, breezy and practically spitting.
Your father, in his eminent wisdom, thought that you should be exposed to being in the sea and that you would no doubt feel happier and more secure if he went in with you (rather than just dangling you bodily in there while only his legs were subjected to the icy temperature). So in you both went. I on the other hand knew it was going to be bloody cold and I didn’t even bring my swimmers to the beach. I wasn’t intending to make you suffer but I was overruled. You can complain to your father when you are older.
That wasn’t the only traumatising event you were subjected to this week though. The other one was however, slightly my fault. On a day that was as hot as the beach day was cold, that is to say, quite, I took you out to Featherdale Wildlife Park. We went with Neighbourette and her children and I think you were quite enjoying seeing all the animals. Right up until one got a little friendly and jumped onto your lap in the stroller. We were in the farmyard section and there were a whole bunch of kids (the baby goat kind) who were VERY tame. They started licking your feet and trying to chew straps hanging off the pram. After a few minutes though, one of them decided that it wanted to be IN the pram. And then I had that moment where I had to decide. Do I rescue the baby immediately or take a photo first…? I took the photo and the Neighbourette rescued you instead.
So also this week, one of your grandmothers decided to show you how much fun it could be to feed yourself. She gave you a spoon and the food and let you have at it. I’m not sure if this is a good development or a bad one. I’m all for not spoon feeding you when you are six years old but I’m not sure yet that I have resigned myself to the mess and the additional time that the learning process is going to require…although there are some things that you can manage just fine on your own. Like rusks. Which you devour. Completely. Or physically attack, whichever is more fun at the time.
Other things you are eminently able to do include pressing buttons. The figurative ones and the literal ones I might add. In regards to the physical ones though, the ones that make noises or produce lights or offer some sort of reward on your toys, you point your finger and head right in there. There is no hesitation. I didn’t think anything of it until someone at mother’s group commented on your ability because a lot of the other kids were still bashing with palms and open hands. You seem to revel in the tactile sensations too. You have some touchy-feely books that up until now, you have had no interest in doing anything with more than looking. You have seen me touch them and encourage you but now you are starting to reach out and see for yourself. There is a whole big new world to explore out there, baby.
The other things I noticed this week were because of or with your dad. He loves to play with you and buy you presents at the drop of a hat which I am sure you will milk when you are older. This week, he bought you a play tunnel. Which he made you crawl through from me to him and back again. You didn’t seem that impressed with the tunnel though and twice you became discouraged half way through and so turned around. On your tummy. Which involved bending somewhat like a pretzel and if you get any taller, I don’t think it would actually be possible.
You also weren’t that sure when your dad kept tossing you almost a meter in the air. He roughhouses with you a lot and he swears that you love this. To be honest, you do have a big smile on your face – half the time. I think when it’s like a new game, it’s all fun but it quickly becomes too much as your dad needs to grab you quite firmly to make sure you don’t fall. Apparently, when your dad does this in public he attracts a lot of attention. Some is positive as in ah, look at that daddy with his baby but there are also those who feel that it’s not the safest thing in the world. I think I sit in the middle. I don’t mind in general but I really wish you dad wouldn’t do it over concrete!
Something that is far safer is guitar. Your dad has been continuing your introduction to the guitar and the ukulele this week and he was a very proud papa when you looked like a natural. Just promise me that you won’t take up electric guitar as your first instrument.