24 Months of Cub (warning: nudity or partial thereof in first two pics)
posted on: Tuesday, 5 April 2011 @ 10:33pm
in
[minor pseudonymising edits during Drupal to hugo migration for all the good that will do now]
I am a terrible mother.
For my big two, I did a “12 months of…” for their first birthdays. My poor, neglected third child missed out. So I decided to make up with a 24 Months of Cub for his second birthday. Didn’t even do a write up like I did with 6yo and 4yo (hers got lost when the last reseller host ate technonaturalist and set my other sites back to June 2010).
[I found out while migrating posts that I have also lost the 12 months of Smidge]
So I better get on with it :)
And just for the whinging prudes and the more conservative types (there is a difference), the first two are semi/nude shots so either scroll past them quickly or don’t read.
All three kids were “oops” to a degree. 6yo was the only one planned, and he happened a year early. 4yo was non-commitally agreed to (“talk to me after the first one’s a couple of years old”). Cub was nowhere on the radar, I was well and truly done after two.
He was the longest pregnancy (the other two were born at about 38 weeks gestation give or take), getting to one day off his due date before I called in my midwife (from Community Midwifery Western Australia, highly recommended if you’re thinking babies). He was the best birth. I had hot water and no pain, just mild discomfort from muscles going nuts birthing a baby. And it was quite entertaining having a massive audience (my parents and sister, my husband, my two big kids, and the two professional and one student, all lovely and amazing midwives). Major advantages to having a baby at home, you can do whatever the hell you want and pop into your own bed after.
This was the first month of Cub. I patted his head and felt it increasing in size from week to week.
The second month of Cub was filled with laughter, love…and abject terror.
In the third month of Cub, he got to meet his great grandmother (my dad’s mum). We were there to celebrate the 90th birthday of an amazing woman.
By the fourth month of Cub, he was on the way to becoming indoctrinated into the sports religion. JJ claims he has a choice, he can wear the jumper or be cold.
The fifth month of Cub saw the development of an expert spit bubble blower.
The sixth month of Cub saw an increased interest in solids. One of his first foods was strawberry (or ’tawbee’ as he would have it these days). That’s him there twisting around to get his gums about the berry in question, and that’s his arm, hand hidden inside a then-too-long one piece suit with a death grip on JJ’s arm so JJ couldn’t take the tasty treat away.
In his seventh month Cub has his first photo shoot at a Tiny Treasures mobile stall in Garden City.
The eighth month of Cub saw him masquerading as a pumpkin in a bright orange outfit at a Halloween party.
In the ninth month of Cub, Mr Baby decided that Mummy attempting to use her phone to take a photo of him was obviously her playing peekaboo. iPhone cameras are a long way from anything resembling ‘great’ though they’ll take a photo in a pinch. When Cub is watching, it can take several attempts before getting a photo with him in it! We use the real camera these days, it takes photos when you press the button (unless you put it on long exposure), not when it feels like it.
In the tenth month of Cub, the baby came along on his first trip to Christmas Island. He spent a lot of time getting spoilt rotten by everyone. As we were up for Christmas and there was a lot of extended family over holidaying, that was a lot of people to be spoilt rotten by.
In the eleventh month of Cub, he was the right weight to handicap JJ with in a game of chasey, had plenty of strength to keep himself upright and cling on, and he loved every second of it. It tired JJ out quickly and gave the kids a prayer of keeping up with him. All good exercise and good fun!
This seems to be a tradition. Cub did not really celebrate his first birthday with a bottle of beer, though he really, really wanted to. Daddy drinks it! Daddy says second set of teeth and they’ll talk about it, same thing he said to Cub’s siblings.
Now things get difficult for me as once we get into years I go to counting months quarterly if that. Good thing all the photos are labelled numerically. In the thirteenth month of Cub, he proved he had the world wrapped around his cute little chubby finger. He had Granddad happily getting down on the ground playing with him to the tune of super adorable baby chuckles.
In the fourteenth month of Cub, he showed how much of an active little tot he was by one day coming to me after having bumped his head on something sharp and splitting it. The damage was not terrible and could be repaired with a bandaid and lots of love.
In the fifteenth month of Cub, we went camping for the first time as a family, and were lucky enough to have the company of our homeschool crew. We went to Dwellingup. It was freezing, but a lot of fun. I wish I hadn’t forgotten the uggbooteenies though, poor bub.
In the sixteenth month of Cub, he developed a love of sushi. And drinking soy sauce.
The seventeenth month of Cub saw him master the art of the cheeky face that seems to run in my family, coming from my dad’s side. I know this because the adults still pull it, especially the males.
The eighteenth month of Cub saw a toddler who knew how to dress with style and flair.
By the nineteenth month of Cub, the toddler, who usually tailed his siblings everywhere, was not content with just following. He had to do everything they did, from the haircuts (they’re all sporting #4s) to the rock climbing.
In the twentieth month of Cub, someone developed a DUCK!!! obsession. And toddlers KNOW that ALL water birds are ducks, regardless of what those stupid adults try to tell you.
This would have been part of a triptych if I was less lazy. In the twenty first month of Cub, the toddler was quite certain he could drive. Here he is checking his mirrors. In a photo before it, he was starting the engine (playing with the keys, he didn’t actually start the car), and in the next photo he is looking over his shoulder and making like he’s turning the wheel while reversing.
In the twenty second month of Cub, there was no stopping him. He had his sister’s help developing his artistic talent, but all painting has since been relegated outside, as the dropsheets just weren’t helping anymore.
In the twenty third month of Cub, he proved he was plenty old enough to help make no-bake peanut butter cookies (we added chocolate chips which made them chocolate peanut butter cookies because for some inane reason it didn’t occur to me that they would melt if I put them in the pot). And help lick the bowl. Or pot in this case.
And here he is, my unexpected love and joy, two years worth of cuddles and giggles and fun and cuteness (and the occasional pain and anguish, but mostly cuddles and giggles and fun and cuteness).
Love him so very, very much!