January 9, 2013


A week ago, we introduced dear little Hugo to a couple of spoonfuls of courgette, steamed and pureed until they were lump free.  I told him he couldn't have any dessert until he'd eaten all his vegetables.  I caved and gave him a teaspoon of pureed pear.

It's with some sadness that I'm seeing this little guy grow up but it's with excitement, too.  Yesterday, we were lying on the floor of his big brothers' bedroom (they were at kindy) and he discovered their box of little matchbox cars.  For a few moments there, he was in heaven, picking them out, one at a time, sucking them, bashing them with his fist, waving them around frantically, before dropping them and picking up another.  It was so cute seeing him being a little boy, rather than a little baby.

He rolls over, roly-polying around, it wakes him at night when he realises he's on his tummy and calls to be rescued, but won't settle for anything except a sleepy, fuzzy breastfeed, before I put him back in his cot and he gives me that smile, eyes half closed, the one that says, 'thanks mum, see you in a couple of hours'.

Earlier this week I took him to kindy, to the nursery there, where he's officially started (only one day a week) for a little play.  I can't bear to leave him just yet so we sat on the floor and drooled a bit.  You see although I don't go back to work until March, I've had to take a spot to ensure we have care for all three boys by the time I'm back to being my groomed self, looking after grown up clients who are at times as frustrating as toddlers.

Anyway, Hugo enjoyed his first tastes.  Avocado, mango and pureed carrots have all been sampled too, with varying degrees of success.  Most of it ends up on his bib/the floor but we have definitely turned a corner.  He's graduating from the bumbo knockoff his brothers used before him and last night I cleaned up the high chair we've had since Ollie started eating real food nearly 4 years ago.  Got out the little bowls and spoons.  Even cracked open my baby food book to start thinking about the meals I think this dear little fellow might enjoy eating.  It's happy and sad to think that this time next year, he'll be a toddler too, making a mess at the table with his brothers, refusing food, giggling at their monkeying rather than concentrating on his meal.  He does that already.

He'll be 6 months old next week.  Every day I wonder what he will be like when he's older, not forgetting that at this moment he's as sweet as they come, with a smile for anyone that smiles back.  I ache with tiredness and from the mental and physical demands of three young children but my heart is fuller than ever before.  Watch this space for more Hugo cuteness, because I can't help myself.

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