- He’s already a metre tall (he’s just over hip-high on me) and about 17kg. Which is incredible, since he was only 3/76kg when born, and only 54cm long. He wears 4-5 year old clothing sizes, is a size 10 shoe and has a better vocabulary than some 16 year olds.
- The potty-training has made excellent progress. Every night before he has a bath, he insists on making a poo in the potty, and having the honour of flushing it away himself. And then runs to his father, proclaiming at the top of his voice that I’M A GOOD BOY DADDY. I MADE A POO IN THE POTTY. To all those parents out there, I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you when you told me to just be patient. one day it will just happen. It happened. And I’m grateful.
- He can count to twenty, knows all his colours and shapes and pretty much all the rules of the road. Loves telling me “mommy, the robot is green, you can go now” and telling me I’m a good driver (yeah, tell that to Sheena) and that Daddy’s a bad driver.
- I think I managed to kill Astro Boy. And replace it with The Incredibles. And Darkwing Duck. Both of which he loves with equal passion, and when he’s with The Boyfriend’s mom, he’s ALL over The Bee Movie.
- He’s such a little rough-and-tough boy – with his swords and his guns and his tanks and trucks and his “BY THE POWER OF GRAYSKULL” (yes, he loves He-Man and Bravestarr too, just as much) and his “I just shot you mommy, you must lie down on the floor now. With his motorbikes and his skateboard.
- Him, with his persistance, and concentration and determination. Him with his “look, I did a puzzle, mommy”, without me ever actually showing him how.
- Him with his cars, and his building racing tracks and his Lego. Love every minute of it. Except for the “I’ll watch you pick it all up, mommy” and standing on stray pieces, barefoot in the dark.
- Him with his “I love you mommy. I will sleep tight. See you in the morning” and his sloppy good night kisses. And his sloppy good morning kisses.
All of it. I have so much to be grateful for.