My baby is eight months old today. It doesn’t feel that long, yet feels like a lot longer at the same time. I’m not going to go into the cliche of not being able to remember life without him, I do, it contained things like lie-ins, nights out on a whim, days off work that didn’t involve watching Bob the Builder, and a lack of knowledge of the contents of Old MacDonalds farm. A different life, where I had changed maybe two nappies ever (ha!) and no idea how many times newborn babies woke up in the middle of the night.

He’s a deadly little dude to be fair, when he’s in a good mood. Recently, his best friend has been a puppy, so while he’s got Mama and Dada out of the way, his third “word” as such is a growl, which he does anytime he’s dissatisfied with anything. It’s great fun. Suppose its not the worst thing to have the worst influence in your child’s life be an adorable puppy.

He’s now 17.4 lbs, as of yesterday – a big leap from the 5 lbs 8 he was when he arrived in March! It took him a while to gain the weight but he has come on in leaps and bounds and you definitely know you’re holding him these days! He’s mad to get moving, and can crawl backwards, but not forwards. The joys. Everything is almost at the stage of having to be tied down… but not quite yet.

And we’re sleeping. Mostly. When those nasty teeth aren’t at us, we’re averaging about one wakeup a night between 8 and 6, can’t ask for much more than that. One day we will look back and laugh at all of the waking. Hopefully some day soon..

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