Eighteen

That’s one-and-a-half. Properly a toddler and definitely not a baby any more. She’s less verbal than Maggie was at this age – look – whether through second-child syndrome, ie being ignored a lot, or necessity, as I’ve become a better mind-reader, we don’t know. But she understands everything you say to her and can communicate everything she needs to so who needs words. Marcel Marceau eat your heart out. (For the record: duck (any bird), cat (any 4-legged creature), mummy, dada, ma-ma (Maggie or more, depending on context), up, baba (bunny – I think – or baby hannah her doll), hiya, shhh (fish), beebee (cbeebies)*, whee!, plus rororo (your boat).)

She loves music and songs and is never happier than when pointing to the ceiling with gusto during wind the bobbin up, or clapping her hands because she is happy and she knows it. She is practising very hard just now to jump with both feet, and loves to do spider-monkey jumps across the sofa or whizz round the house on her wheelybug. She is most independent and strong-minded and Will Not hold my hand on request (so gets carried rather more than she would like: must try again with reins). She gives big sloppy kisses – again, entirely on her own terms and not on request – and is a giggler. Also a squealer, which I hope very much is a short-lived phase. She’s fantastically helpful when unloading the dishwasher, putting all the baby items in the drawer…but cannot be persuaded to load the washing machine, which Maggie was great at.

Happy one and a half, baby Tamsin!

*Last week when I was laid out on the sofa being poorly, she climbed onto me, settled herself down, pointed most insistantly at the television and demanded beebee. She bounces along with Carrie and David most amusingly.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 13th, 2008 at 9:50 am and is filed under parenting. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.