Our baby Finn, that’s him there a few months ago, is one year old this week.
On Sunday we’ll celebrate the arrival of this sweet, gentle little soul and the fact that we’ve got this far without anyone’s mental or physical health being compromised.
One year ago this week we were adjusting to life as a family of five. Finn’s arrival was like an alien had beamed straight into our living. With two older kids we had just about gotten used to the eight hours of sleep, the reasonably civilised dinner times, the evenings of relative peace. When this little dude came along he brought with him his own specific schedule. Highlights of which involved sleeping in short, sharp bursts of 15 minutes and much washing of putrid clothing and any surrounding fabrics during his explosive nappy phases. I’m sure he’ll thank me for sharing his toilet habits with the general public when he’s reading this in 16 years time.
But in 16 years time, if he continues reading this, I want him to know that, despite the volume of dirty washing, he was a real light in all our lives.
We’ll always think of him as our credit crunch baby. Born into very uncertain financial times, the child never failed to make us laugh or smile. A true joy to watch over and a real source of amusement. We have spent hours laughing at this little guy crawling, getting stuck under chairs, sleeping with his backside in the air and shouting at the dog. We had forgotten how funny spaghetti covered faces were, how deliciously sweet freshly bathed babies are, or how lovely it is to be greeted in the morning by a big wide smile instead of a surly ’10 more minutes’.
We had forgotten how much baby paraphernalia came with the little tykes, and how even a trip into town could take hours of preparation. And how, despite all the preparation we’d still spend the entire time in a city centre café feeding the child or in a stuffy, stinky mother and baby room changing nappies.
Those torturous teething phases of sleepless nights and restless days had also been somehow put to the very back of our subconscious, filed in there alongside ‘weird stuff in ears or noses’ and ‘terrifying trips to the casualty department’.
If we had forgotten all that, our little Finn reminded us just how beautiful life can be. He reminded us of how there is no greater sound than a giggling baby, no better sight than a slumbering one.
Happy birthday sunshine.
No comments:
Post a Comment