This is the general reaction I get from people when they ask “so, how long until the baby is born?” – they are obviously expecting an answer along the lines of “imminently” or “last week” based on the size of this bump. To be honest, sometimes I look at the size of it myself and think “two more months??!!”. It’s pretty big.
How is this for mother guilt? I never took any tummy pictures when I was pregnant with Hugo (given how long it took me to manage this one, trying to focus without dropping the camera I realise WHY I didn’t). Now that I’ve taken this one, I have a vision of him in the future explaining it all to his therapist … “well, it all started going wrong when my mother didn’t take a photo of me in utero …..”
In spite of my best efforts at arguing against the likelihood of him being left handed – handedness isn’t determined this young, he only uses his left hand because he sees me doing it etc etc – it is becoming apparent that he does indeed favour his south paw.
There is a vague theory about left handed people and creativity, based around right brain dominance or something. Well, I’m not sure about that – but what he lacks in technique he certainly makes up for with his enthusiasm and prolific output
(and if you looks closely, you can see the tongue poking out in concentration … he may resemble me in handedness, but he’s otherwise a dead-ringer for Daddy).
We were having dinner on Saturday night, part of which was a potato salad. For some reason this particular potato salad had celery in it (yeah, I don’t know why either). Hugo’s general approach to vegetables, especially green ones, and especially especially crunchy green ones is the “taste, grimace, spit” method. A stray piece of celery made it’s way into his mouth … crunch, grimace -”what *is* it?” …”It’s celery….” then, struggling to find something more to say about it (I mean, it’s CELERY – what else is there to say?) I followed up with “The Wonder Pets eat it”.
Oh! Well, in that case … bring it on! We spent the rest of the meal playing ‘hunt the celery’ in the potato salad – and he just kept eating it. That brings his vegetable consumption quota to a grand total of FOUR (baby corn spears, canned beetroot, carrot and now celery).
Speaking of the Wonder Pets, I have to admit that Linny, Tuck and Ming Ming too are not really high on my list of favourites, but for some reason he just loves them. Probably because they spend approximately 27 minutes of a half-hour episode singing. (Could this be why, every time we play a game – anything – he asks me “Mummy, sing a song about *insert random object here*” … sadly, I can usually scrape up at least one song for each activity).
In any case in spite of my diligent efforts, there just does not seem to be a DVD of the Wonder Pets in existence – and certainly not in Australia, so I’m thinking of recording some episodes for him to watch during the 22.5 hours of the day it isn’t on Nick Jr. (If we had Foxtel IQ, I could even catch that 4am episode but as committed as I am to his ongoing happiness, I will not be setting my alarm clock to record that one). I asked the two most technologically clever people I know about using the DVD recorder and they both suggested I ‘read the book’. HAH. The book, the book … yeah, it’s probably around here somewhere. Needless to say, I’ve now bought a nice reliable blank video and we’ll go retro to tape Wonder Pets.
I remember when I was growing up, I used to shake my head at adults who couldn’t fathom the VCR – I mean, how hard is it? Put the tape in and press record! It seems I have finally attained that pinnacle of adult-ness … I can’t work the technology in our house
Hugo and Louis are very good friends. The two big boys (who both came before Hugo and therefore remember life before sticky fingers and loud noises) are understandably wary of Hugo’s keen interest in a) anything that moves; b) is smaller than he is; and c) furry. Louis, on the other hand thrives on Hugo’s version of love (and never-ending supply of snacks).
Last week I walked into the lounge-room to find Hugo with his head resting on Louis like a pillow – “GET UP!! YOU’LL SQUASH HIM” – but Louis was purring and they both just looked up at me with identical “what are you yelling about woman?? we’re trying to watch Wonder Pets here …” expressions.
There is nothing more endearing than Hugo giggling hysterically “he YUVS me mummy!” as they play one of their mad-cap chasing games around the house.
This week Louis visited the ‘doctor’ for his little operation. We took him over in the morning, and as the vet carried him through the door, Hugo bellowed “YOU-EEEEEEE” with tears in his eyes … you’d have thought the poor cat was walking the Green Mile. You-eee came home later that day, as full of beans as ever (I know he had the operation, I have a piece of paper that says so … but he bounced back straight away) and he and Hugo took up where they left off – my pleadings of “please be gentle, he’s just had an operation” falling like dust in the wake of their shenanigans.
And it does Louis no harm … his report from the vet pronounced “Louis is in great condition”
“at least it isn’t in his eyes anymore”
And the side view, for that full mullet effect.
he’s beautiful And so grown up!
Today we went down to put him on the waiting list (yes, waiting list!) for pre-school next year. Then two years after that, he’ll be in regular school … then uni … then *sniff* GONE!
… and while I’m here, any tips on how to have a stress-and-tear-free haircut?
the next post contains a picture of a big spider. You know …. just in case you find that kind of thing scary.
for anyone who can tell me what kind of spider this is?
and more to the point, will it kill me if I run into it in the dark? (It has a web over our garbage bins)