three

You can show me how old you are on your fingers. You know both your addresses. And you've just learned to blow bubbles (though the candles on your cake were blown, with a sigh, 'ffffff'). 

You are complicated. Playful, articulate and loving. Highly sensitive. With a big personality.

You have an ocean of feelings within. Moody like a teenager, cantankerous like an old man, tender like the kind-hearted soul you are.

Since the heady days of two-and-a-half, you have been testing us to the edges of our sanity with your moods and tantrums.

Now you're testing your physical skills in every way possible too. You have little time for crafting these days, but when you do make something, you thrill in pulling it apart.

You love looking after your little friends, your arm often around a shoulder, guiding. Loathe to bathe yourself, you dabbed a serviette about Miss-Not-Quite-Two's chocolate cake smeared mouth at your party. Yes, you're quite partial to little girl friends.

Make believe games are where it's at. You like to play shop-keeper while I change your brother's nappy. Or, 'Mum, pretend you're a whale'.

You love bacon and chips and popcorn, but not the 'bones'.

Sometimes I look at you and wonder how you got to be so clever. You come out with things I have no idea how you acquired. You use words like 'plateau' correctly. Sometimes you call me 'darling'. And the question 'How did you make me?' is on high repeat, with much probing about just exactly how.

For all the ways you spin my heart entirely off its axis, I'm forever thankful.

37/52

 Ellery: the journey is the destination

Aubrey: avocado

A trip to the museum to see an exhibition about our island home. A ride up in a very old lift to the top of the country's oldest clocktower. And his favourite part of the day was the train ride. 

---

I left the room to retrieve my phone. When I returned, he was still telling me all about his first taste of avocado.

36/52

Ellery: figuring out the world

Aubrey: floral sheets and vintage playsuits

A mini city break. Pizza and playgrounds. Sushi, swimming and shopping. Family and friends. A very sad baby this week with teething hitting the heights. And that's about the extent of my recall as I play catch up again. 

six months

The weeks are ticking by at warp speed. So much faster the second time around. I realised that I can barely remember your brother at six months, though on inspection, he had no hair!

My chilled little fellow, you've found your voice! You're all squeals and giggles and fake laughs, though somehow you still manage to be the quieter one.

Enthralled with and overwhelmed by your brother, who smooshes all over you with love. He's the one who makes you giggle the most.

You can wiggle around on the ground, and although you have rolled, you'd rather just get around by wiggling.

Teething is making you quite miserable and in constant need of cuddles.

In fact, up until teething stole our sleep, you slept better than I'd imagined possible. Always open to the suggestion of sleep, and once down for the night, just slept, waking once, twice, perhaps three times to feed.

Your happy place is in my or Daddy's arms.

You've got sand between your toes and are usually lulled to sleep when we walk on the shore in the late afternoon.

You ate your first food, egg yolk. No great excitement, just like you'd been eating forever. Though after a couple of tries, it is suddenly making you quite ill, so we'll stick to fruit and veg for now.

And, I am amazed thrilled flabbergasted to say, you are exclusively breastfed, despite a little supplementation earlier on. After about three months, we've had no need to supplement! You are letting me know that I’m meeting all your needs for milk. I've ditched the SNS. And being on the 50^th percentile for weight is just absolutely amazing. This one thing is a miracle, a blessing and a relief.

Oh my happy, giggly, double-dimpled boy (two on each cheek!). You have filled our hearts to bursting, Aubrey Finn.