Leila Rose Petal

That’s sooo funny!! by Nicky P

Dear Leila,

You’re not officially ten months old until tomorrow and normally I would spend a couple of weeks thinking about writing this update before actually doing, but you’ve achieved some milestones in the last couple of days that are begging to be recorded. We’ll get to them in a minute.

You may notice that my writing style for this update is a bit different. If fact it’s a direct steal from here. I think it sounds much friendlier than the way I’ve been writing your monthly updates. Don’t expect me to keep it up for four years, though. You’ll be lucky if I manage to write the same way two months running. But enough about me writing about you. Let’s get back to me actually writing about you.

In the last month you’ve continued to be the happy, beautiful presence in our life that you’ve been for the previous nine. You are a complete joy to your Dad and I and I’m putting it in writing now because I know I will need to be reminded of it down the track. We are very, very glad we decided to do the parent thing a second time.

People often comment on how good tempered you are, much like Finn was and still is. I am at pains to point out to them that your temperament is quite different from Finn’s. This is not to say that there’s anything wrong with it. It’s different simply because you are Leila and he is Finn. He has always been a happy, easygoing kid, rarely fazed by anything. You are, by comparison, an even happier kid, more smiley and even better at eliciting smiles and coos of admiration from adults (and he’s pretty good at it). On the flip side, however, when you are unhappy you are absolutely miserable.

My evidence for this is the almost nightly storm of weeping, yelling and sobbing that accompanies your bedtime. I know Finn would cry at bedtimes, but I don’t recall anything like the half hour performance you mount. I go in to check on you, sure that the hollering must be due to you belting your head on the side of the cot or injuring yourself in some other way, only to find that you are fine - just rather upset. And it all stops as soon as I am present to pat or cuddle you. You are, indeed, The Little Princess.

Now to those milestones. In the last little while I’ve been trying to attach some meaning to the sounds you make and encourage you to repeat them in response to certain stimuli. You’ve pointed at Dad and said “dad-dad-dad” and pointed at me and said “mum-mum-mum” a couple of times but they haven’t stuck. You will shake your head and say “no-no-no-no”, but not consistently enough to consider it your first word. You’ve also started raising your hand and saying “hiya” when you see people, but that’s quite random too.

What you have started to say consistently is “ta”. I originally started getting Finn to say it when he took a toy from you as a way of slowing him down and stopping him from snatching things from you. It’s caught on for you, though, and now you’ll quite happily offer whatever you have in your hand to us with a “ta?” and will obediently say “ta!” again to get it back. So “ta” is officially your first word. Of course, we act like this is a work of genius on your part so you think it’s a great game and you’re happy to take part in it. It won’t be long until you work out that things you give don’t always come back and then we might have to work a little harder.

The other milestone is one you’ve been on the edge of for a few weeks now. Today your dad and I agreed that you officially crawled. It was wobbly and only lasted for 3 or 4 little steps (or whatever it’s called when you crawl), but it was definitely crawling - on hands and knees too, no commando crawling for The Princess. Rabid optimist that I am, my first thought was “I’m in trouble now!”. The days when I could go out to the clothesline and return to find you basically where I left you are coming to an end. The loungeroom suddenly took on a slightly sinister hue as I began to note all the dangers to a crawler. I’ll never be able to let you out of my sight again and it’s going to be increasingly difficult for me to leave your sight. Going to the toilet alone is about to become a luxury.

Now that you’re crawling, you’ll be walking in no time at all and I find myself starting to miss my little baby. You’re little for such a short, precious time and I’m very glad that I’ve been able to be there for it. Happy 10 months my little possum.

Love, Mum.