Happy 2 months on earth to our chunky sleep stealing monster!
It’s hard to believe just 2 months ago we were in hospital bringing you into the world – in many ways it seems like you’ve been here forever and in others, like you only just arrived! (That’s possibly the sleep deprivation playing tricks on my mind)
Whilst other mums and dads celebrate their child sleeping through the night at this age, no not us, nooo thank you, instead we’ve got a boy who likes to be awake as much as possible, day and night! Lucky us! I get it, we are very fun and you don’t want to get FOMO.
If you’re not awake chatting away in a language we’re too stupid to understand, you’re demanding milk, which explains why you now weigh the same as a baby elephant / light aircraft / more than your mother can lift.
Frankly I fear the day you move on to solids as financially supporting feeding a Robert Brown and a Felix Brown in the same home is above both our pay grade and I imagine my purpose in this house will be to become a full time dinner lady, which is an absolute dream come true for someone like me who doesn’t particularly like cooking.
The nicknames continue, and you must be quite confused as to what your name actually is! Granny calls you “mini Rob Brown” or “Lennon” (don’t take the latter personally, I’ve been “BuddyJonLou” for years). Your dad has a new name for you every week, this week you have been Lord Grumblestein but Abu-Babby and BotBotBoy came from him too. And I continue to call you Pig in a stupid voice which I hate but can’t stop doing. I fear one day someone will ask you your name and you’ll answer with any of the above… (“Hi, I’m Pig”) or (“You can call me Lord G”) or (“Yes it’s Lennon, the exact same name as my cousin) So just to be clear, your actual name is Felix, far more acceptable in public than the stupid things we keep calling you.
Despite me bringing you into the world and spending not one second away from you, you are very much a daddy’s boy, spending your weekends gazing at him like he is a God (personally, I don’t see what all the fuss is about.) You’re very aware when he’s late home from work and decide to kick off at about the same time each night if he’s not home to give you a cuddle – which is very cute. (Less cute when he is late home and I have nothing to offer you, but cute nonetheless).
You have absolutely nailed smiling which is both a blessing and a curse – a blessing because it is so bloody adorable I think I might die every time you do it, a curse because you could keep me up all night, burn down the house and then throw me a grin and all would be forgiven… hope you grow out of this cuteness otherwise you’ll be getting away with murder for the rest of your life. (I’m sure you won’t be a murderer, you show far more potential than this. Still got high hopes for you smashing those burger eating competitions).
In many ways I can’t wait for you to roll over, crawl, stand up, walk and talk (I really really really can’t wait for you to talk!) but I’m also well aware of how much you change each day, and that the tiny, helpless creature we brought home is slowly slipping away! One day you won’t want cuddles from mummy or to gaze at daddy and I know we will both miss that so much – although this would be slightly weird behaviour from an 18 year old, so perhaps it’s for the best.
For now we’re going to enjoy you just as you are, so keep the cuddles and I suppose the sleepless nights coming and in return we will have all the milk and nicknames ready for you as and when you demand them. Love you so very much Lord G xxxx