Don’t worry, this isn’t a list of 18 million things…I may be occasionally verbose but I do understand the limits of a blog post.
No, even better than that, it is a completely self-indulgent post of 20 things I really like about my son. Hurray, lucky you!
I have a habit of saying to my toddler, mostly at bedtime ‘there are 18 million things I love about you and that (whatever ‘that’ may be) is one of them’.
I was editing my ‘about’ page the other day and I edited out some bits that described a few little traits of my son and memories I wanted to preserve in my blog. He doesn’t do any of the things I described anymore, they were short but sweet phases – he doesn’t call me Mmm for example, I’m now boring old Mummy or Mum…or Lucy – and I realised I will almost certainly forget some of his other little passing quirks. So I made a resolution to write these things down from time to time, and here’s the first instalment.
Feel free to zone out and move on. I’m fairly confident no one (bar my husband) is as keen on my son as I am!
Some of the 18 million things I love about you, my 2 years & 4 month old son are:
That orange is your ‘favourite’
That some things are ‘amazing’ and ‘wow’ and ‘oh my goodness’ and ‘so so big’
That almost everything has taken a turn at being ‘old-fashioned’…from aeroplanes to tractors to a cup of tea, the kitchen chairs and your duvet
The way you say ‘yes please Mummy’ and ‘Course Mummy’ and ‘Don’t worry Mummy’
The fact you love so much and so many things…I hear ‘my love something’ all day.
The way you, when you’re in your pushchair, happily give me your press for the pedestrian crossing…you wait for me to press the button then you take your press back
The way you started to want to climb trees now it’s autumn to ‘help the leaves fall’
The way that every curve is a rainbow
How many olives you eat and how sociable this is for excursions to drink wine
The way you take off for running and jumping
The way you beep when you walk backwards
The way you hide by the shed at the bottom of the garden
The fact we have a ding-dong tree by the pond
How magical it was watching the ‘funny bat’ with you in our garden
Your little tiny yellow umbrella and the way you ‘need it’ when its ‘raining pouring’ to keep you ‘warm’
The way you love to brush my hair (but only if it’s dry)
The way you say ‘that’s better’
That you park your little fleet of little vehicles at bedtime
That we sing a made-up song about ‘Fireman, Fireman Sam’ to a made up tune because neither of us have ever seen it, but he’s on your pajamas. Or ‘jamamas’
The way when you go through periods of separation anxiety you push your face into my face at night as if you want to get as close as is possibly possible.