20 months old last month!

I’m way out of whack this month. Whole chunks of time are peeling past at a ferocious rate, and in a blink of an eye I’m gonna be a grandma with no teeth and skin like an old prune.

What I’m trying to say is, bunny-my-honey, I’m sorry to cock up your monthly birthday letter again. I desperately want to be able to log on pronto each and every month, and post cute photos of you, and write snappy, sappy sentences about how much you’ve grown, and how much I love you. But try as I might, I can’t seem to find neither time nor energy to put pen to ‘puter. I am juggling too many balls as a single mama, struggling with all kinds of shit that I don’t want to bend your ears with. It’s grown up ears stuff. Not for babies ears. I’ll put a sock in it now, and get on with this post.

Bun-buns! It was your 20 month birthday a few weeks ago! You were a whopping 20 months old! Wowee! It’s a biggie milestone for such a wee little baby, creeping closer and closer to the 2 year mark.

Weird thing is your face is filling out and getting more expressive, but your body is staying the same. Thanks to multiple food allergies and intolerances you haven’t been putting on much weight over the last few months. You’re still fitting into your 6 – 12 month old clothes that you were wearing last year. You’ve weighed in at 21 lbs for an absolute age. Everyone says what a big baby you are, but the reality is you are small for your age. It must be your big smile that throws them. You’ve got a big personality bun-buns.

You’re still trying to catch everyone’s eye and flirt with them, but now when someone smiles back, you pretend to be all shy and coy, and curl your head into my shoulder, or hide between my legs and peek out. You’re a darling little boy. Everyone says so. You’ve won many a heart.

You’ve got some new tricks up your sleeve. Like climbing on my back whenever I bend over. You love to dance, twirling around and around.  And singing. Old favourites like baa baa black sheep. You’re not quite talking, but you certainly make yourself understood. You’re big on kissing and hugging these days too. You’re mama’s little helper in the kitchen, sweeping, mopping, cleaning and “chopping” squash. I love that you get me my towel when I I’m coming out of the shower, or that you pass my glasses to me when I wake up in the morning. I’m not so keen on you picking up sticks and bashing everything in sight when we go for walks in nature, but then you are a boy after all.

You can be a bit of a monkey with the toilet roll.

Nothing in the house is safe or sacred anymore. I spend all my time putting books back on shelves, locating lost items like the car keys, and lamenting indelible pen marks all over my cream sofa.

On the food front, yes, we are still eating a ridiculously restricted diet of chicken, chard and squash for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Only now we’re doing a bit of beef and chicken aswell. Plus a few “new” vegetables have come into play. Cauliflower, broccoli, bok choy, celery and sometimes spinach are all on the plate at meal times, and so far you seem to be OK with that. You haven’t got to baseline with your symptoms. But the eczema and rashes are down right now, and you’ve been sleeping much better than ever before. We just need normal bowel movements please. And more sleep. Like, more than 3 hours would be a miracle.

This year we did Halloween. Not at home like last year, this time we went out trick or treating.  First we picked out pumpkins and carved them.

 Then we dressed up. You were a black cat. Possibly the cutest little black puddy cat in the whole world.

I was a witch, of course. I’m always a witch. It’s my day to come out of the broom closet.

We started off in good spooky spirits, but the novelty of soon wore off. We lasted less than an hour. It was a total nightmare. Zillions of greedy, hyper, sugar-crazed kids were rushing about wild-eyed, frothing at the mouth, clutching gigantic pillow cases chock full of candy loot, looking like they stepped out of a horror gangsta film. There was a frenzied frantic fanatical vibe permeating the air. Horrible. Truly frightful.

Fortunately you weren’t really interested in trick or treating. But you were quite fascinated with the moving, squawking, red eyes flashing raven in a fake graveyard in someone’s front garden. That’s your mama’s namesake there, bunny. Spooky, huh?

By then it was time to turn in for the night.  It was the end of another month of action-packed joy, fun and adventure with you, my precious little bunny. Not so much a bun-buns anymore, as a proper little boy, looking more and more like your papa as days go by. Im very glad to see that you definitely have my eyes. Big, intense hazel eyes. All the better to see you with.

I’ll do my best to be on time with your next letter bunny. I want us to remember these wonderful, fleeting moments together, forever. My heart is full of love for you, buttercup. Thank you for making my life worthwhile. I love you so much. ((((hugs)))))

All my love always

Mummy xxxxxxxxxx