Here we are at the end of the year and fantastically, we all seem to be well. Following the last bout of nastiness, the spud came down with gastroenteritis for Christmas and didn’t eat for 5 days. I’m not sure why I’m surprised. I guess I should wake up and smell the proverbial – small child + frequent contact with groups of other children = catching everything under the sun. In turn, we’ve had a low dose of the same and so Christmas wasn’t the eat-a-thon that we were expecting it to be.
None the less, here we all are and we appear to be doing very well. The Spud is on good form and eating one meal a day. Now this may alarm some of you out there however let me reassure you that this one meal starts at about 7am and goes on until around 8pm when he falls asleep on his bottle… clearly he’s making up for lost time at the trough. We start with cereal in the morning followed by a banana followed by a brief respite which ends when him and one of his one hundred picky little hands have located something edible on top of a counter that we thought he couldn’t reach. You know, bread, cake, a mince pie. He then trundles around for the rest of the morning snacking on this item and leaving a trail of crumbs.
Just as one would think he has had enough and the last soggy piece has made it’s way either into his mouth or into permanent residence as a new pattern on the carpet he is clutching at one’s knees and uttering his brand new first ever word ‘nana’, short for ‘banana’ and clearly meaning food of any description. He has been seen standing on tiptoe with one hand thrusting around inside the bag attached to the back of his buggy and saying ‘nana nana nana’ over and over until a rice cake is forthcoming.
So, on it goes, through an enormous lunch, a massive dinner and snacks of all descriptions. The downside is that it’s been continuing all night too and he’s been waking up absolutely ravenous two or three times in the night. Hopefully this means that he’ll have topped himself up in a few days and be back to his normal extra-large-fryer self rather than this shoe-string fry we’re getting used to these days.
On that note, I thought I’d do a short round-up of the year. On Jan 1st 2007, the spud was 4 months old and not able to do much other than hold things and look goggly-eyed around him. He weighed in at around 14 pounds and couldn’t sit up or crawl or, I think, roll over. I weighed an enormous amount, was breast-feeding constantly and was happily not working. On Jan 1st 2008 the spud will be, if today is anything to go by, two foot ten (meaning he is nearly half my height already and in the world of ‘double their height when they’re two to get their adult height’ he is going to be Very Tall indeed). He weighs somewhere in the region of 30 pound and he is walking, using a fork, saying one word, able to open the fridge and all the drawers in the house and will no doubt shortly be creating space-capable rocket ships using only egg cartons and old digital watches.
I on the other hand have succeeded in losing 22 pounds, am putting in three days a week working and have regained my boobs. At least, I think they’re mine, they’re in virtually the same vicinity as my old ones, just a little further south. The Frog is much the same only a little more patient and long-suffering. We can both change a nappy in the dark without waking up and I think we’re still pretty happy with our lot. Roll on 2008 and Happy New Year everyone!