He’s almost three.
It’s hard to believe there was ever a time when he wasn’t firmly at the centre of the family.
He talks ALL the time now. When he doesn’t know the word he find a way round it.
When he can’t get us to do his bidding he finds a way round us.
He’s the cheekiest, sunniest, happiest, most filled with sunlight boy I could imagine.
“Wow! A massive rainbow. I drawed a massive rainbow, mummy!”
he has things he likes to do, places he likes to go. He has memories of trips to the library that he can draw on and talk about.
“Twinkle twinkle little star, Bene and Daddy racing car”. He made up his own little song.
He’s a fearless daredevil.
Last week I took him to playgym and my little boy dashed off and didn’t look for me all session.
He loves his nursery – but hates being dropped off.
He’s a whizz with an ipad, if I let him have it. I rarely do.
It’s so very hard to imagine a time without him.
To be honest, I try very hard not to.
Almost three, baby boy. Almost three.