You are seven months old. I last wrote you in your Christmas card. I like to write you these letters every now and then so that I remember.
You are such a fun little boy these days. Full of beans, you don’t like to stay still for too long. You are not yet crawling, but you have become a very efficient roller. You have four teeth. You love to stand up, I have a feeling you will really like walking once you get the hang of it. But in the meantime, you and I are both very glad that we have a Jumperoo.
You have become very playful in recent weeks. I love the way your eyes light up when you realise mummy or daddy is playing a game with you, and that infectious giggle. You love to blow raspberries on our skin, give big slobbery kisses, and touch our faces. Your favourite song is The Grand Old Duke of York, you know when to stand up and down and think this is very amusing. You have a smile for everyone, including strangers on the tube and in the supermarket. It’s not at all hard to coax a big grin out of you and you love having all the attention.
I love watching the relationship develop between you and your dad. To you, he’s always been your dad. To me, it’s like seeing him in a different and very special light. You don’t know this, but every day he rushes home to spend time with you before you go to bed. And every day at 5.30pm when you hear the front door, you turn and smile in anticipation. Your biggest laughs are for your dad. He says that you are two peas in a pod and that he’s never been more happy.
Every single day I have the same thoughts when I look at you. I remember when I first saw you, and that you are becoming such a big boy, and that I’m so proud of you.