Dear Ameli- Letter to an Eight Month Old

Dear Ameli

You amaze me little one.

I am amazed by you.

I watch you scoot around the lounge chasing the little pink wooden rolling rattle that your aunty Deshaine bought you and I am amazed. I watch you pull yourself up on the sofa and take tiny supported steps, and I am amazed. I watch you chewing on a piece of asparagus and seemingly enjoying it, and I am amazed.

I have to remind myself that you are only eight months old. Just a baby still, even though you seem to be in such a hurry.

Your forward motion has developed so much this month – from a dragging crawl to a gimpy, one knee one foot crawl to a full blown speedy two kneed crawl, and from a few unassisted uncertain steps to being able to walk so long as you’re held up. You move so fast now, we can’t leave you in a room alone.

You are eating really well. You love smoked salmon more than anything else, but you’ll definitely try everything. So far you don’t like grapefruit, but unsweetened, who can blame you. I walked in to the kitchen to find you eating a piece of mushroom that had fallen on the floor at breakfast! Terrible, but funny. You eat your solids well, although you have very small portions.

You do funny little things now, and laugh heartily at yourself and us. You giggle when I cough. You run your finger along Daddy’s teeth and laugh. You laugh when we help you walk. You laugh when you see yourself in the mirror.

Verbally you interchange between da-da-da and ba-ba-ba now, and blow your own raspberries at will and especially at strangers on trains and in shops, which always causes laughter!

You’ve discovered waiving. Or rather, you’ve discovered how to wave, but I don’t think you know what it is or how to use it yet.

We went on a play date last week with Henry (20 months), Max (2 years) and Pippa (6 months) and it was the first time I really saw you interact with other children. It was so lovely to see.

The weather has been improving and we have been going outdoors more and more. We went foraging for dandelions which we fried and you even ate one.

We’ve been going to the parks a lot too. It’s been wonderful to see you interact more. The swings make you smile widely, and the climbing frame is a fantastic challenge you enjoy. Even on grass you’re so much happier than you were just a month ago. You cried the first few times I put you down on it, but now you’ll happily crawl around.

You saw a few goats in the City Farm and you squealed with delight when you touched them.

We have been listening to a new CD this month, and we have two favourite songs. We dance in the kitchen to Lucas the Lazy Lion and I roar loudly when he roars. It makes you giggle. Daddy blows raspberries on your tummy with Zee Bee Dee Bee Dee, a song about a Zebra. Between the three of us, we amuse ourselves with this for hours.

My brother and granny, your uncle and great-grandmother, have come to visit us. You’ve enjoyed the extra attention, but you still love being with me most of all. We’ve been all around London and you’ve just been so well behaved. We went to Covent Garden, Leicester Square, Picadilly Circus, China Town, Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace, and Big Ben and you were so quiet in your sling we almost forgot you were there. But you were taking it all in, seeing everything.

We went to the Naval Museum and on the Thames river boat too. In the 4D experience the fireworks frightened you and you looked up at me with eyes wide and in the London Eye you bounced up and down holding on to the railing. People commented how you have no fear. And you really don’t. Even when I changed your nappy, you just wanted to jump up and down and look out the windows. I was proud of you.

We have so many good things coming up this month, I look forward to seeing how you handle it all. I look forward to seeing how you can amaze me more every day. I look forward to seeing how you grow, how you develop. I look forward to falling in love with you, being awed by you, enamoured by you, overwhelmed and enthralled with you.

I love you, sweet child of mine.

Mummy.