I have been organising photographs; whenever I do such things I get lost in the photos. It is probably why I never complete the aforementioned task and never end up with lovely photo books, pretty and bound on my shelves. However, this time I am organising one month of photographs per evening. This allows ample time for swooning over baby fat and a lack of hair -- my little boy was bald for such a long time!
An update is more than overdue for little Elis; the little boy who is ever growing - mind and body. He understands me. He is becoming a person and understands me when I speak to him. This ability comes hand in hand with the ability to consciously ignore, but we shall save that for another time.
Some people reminisce about an age at which they most enjoyed their child, or cast their minds forward and wish that their child was that little bit older so that they could do x, y and z. I am forever lost in the moment; I think back and can only think how I am enjoying this age even more than I did that age. And as for looking forward, I just cannot fathom a child, a fully grown child who will be able to have a logical conversation with me. In my mind, Elis is Elis and is trapped in a perpetual state of the age of that day. In this very same way, I could never picture Elis walking - yet here he is, one big, blonde ball of fun tumbling around everywhere.
Slides are his current favourite. He counts as he goes up the steps and lets out a 'woo' as he descends (the slide not the steps). His little shoes are scuffed and at the end of a nursery day he can often be found eating mud. What a... boy.
Fruit, how he devours fruit. Blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, bananas, kiwi, nectarine. His vitamin levels must be through the roof. Grapes, mustn't forget grapes; the way he ensures both hands and mouth are filled, just incase the food source is removed. It could happen at any time, don't you know
Baa baa black sheep is the absolute favourite nursery rhyme at the moment. The moment Elis says baa, I launch into song; he always looks up, so surprised that Mama knows the songs that he sings with his friends in nursery. But how? That moment passes and we just enjoy singing together. We sometimes move on to Twinkle Twinkle and when we are bored of the sky, we row boats and let out little yelps if we are singing the version involving a crocodile. He can always tell which verse we have sung and always knows whether to scream. He is my clever little person.
I am biased, this is true - but if I am ever in a position where I have lost my eyes / nose / mouth / chin / cheeks / ears / head / hair / knees / toes / feet / hands / fingers / shoulders then Elis can point them out for me, which will be a relief. In my mind, he can also say all of those words - in reality, he has a different sound for each - a sound which Mama understands, but which to others may quite clearly sound a little like gobbledeegook.
Elis still dislikes baths. If you try to imagine a cat being placed in a bath, with legs gripping the edges - this is Elis. His legs dart out, this way - and that way. It takes a lot of bribery and even then he refuses to sit. The bribery is in the form of sole control of the shower. This is fine for the duration of the bath, albeit a little messy, however, upon leaving the bath tub, the shower head must remain and the fight to get him in is replicated, but this time in the form of a tug of war. Baths. Sleep. One day he will regret disliking such things!
And here I shall end; I could type for a lot longer about my little person you see. About how he has the most beautiful long eyelashes and a far better tan than I at the age of almost twenty two months. But I won't. I shall curl up with my book and then go upstairs to give him cuddles. Being a Mama isn't easy - but it certainly has its perks; a pretty little person loving me unconditionally. I can just about cope with that.