I write this sitting on the lounge floor while Pip kicks and wriggles and snuffles next to me and upstairs Elma snoozes the day away in my bed and I tuck into the nourishing chicken pasta and sweet corn soup I made to try to encourage her back to health. It’s delicious. She on the other hand is feeling decidedly below par with the double whammy of ear infection (both ears) and tonisilitis.
Yes, this, this twelfth week of Pip’s life was the one when all our hopes and our chain eating of satsumas came to count for naught in the face of two little people doing germ warfare at nursery on a twice weekly basis. H has a sore throat, I’ve got a sniffle, Kitty has a very impressive cough, Elma is currently working her way through her first ever course of antibiotics and Pip has a little snuffly nose but the happiest smile in the whole world.
It is also the week when with a little sigh of regret I put the last of the 3-6 month babygros into the grown out of bag; Pip’s officially a 6-9 month sized baby now – in penguin babygros no less – at not quite three months old.
And not quite three months old is clearly an age he’s starting to enjoy; we’re getting more and more giggles and chuckles every day that the moment. He loves to be propped up on my knees while I hold his hands and dance them around; he loves to have his head stroked; and he loves it if you make a muslin or a play silk fly around just above his head.
With all the inquisitiveness is coming better and better head control; he really likes to have a good look around when he’s in the sling so for the first few minutes he’ll pop his head in and out of the outer cover just to see what’s going on and then go back to his favourite occupation of snoozing.
I think he might also be trying to find his thumb. Both of the girls suck their thumbs, though I suspect Kitty will start to grow out of it in the next year or so, and it’s so sweet to see them sat together mirroring each other. The three of them together would definitely be one of those photos that you save to bring out when they’re all grown up to present to their future spouse. For now Pip’s mostly trying to chew his fingers and knuckles; he’s not hungry if I try to offer him milk, he just wants to chew and well, your fingers are a lot more readily available than Daddy’s nose, Daddy’s upper arm or (and most impressively) the corner of a pillow, all of which have been thoroughly tested both for chewing and the possibility of milk in the last few days.
He’s definitely got more hair than a couple of weeks ago, and even longer eyelashes if such a thing were possible; every now and then I get a flash of a look of the future Pip and wonder how he’s growing up so fast!
This week we took him on a flying visit to Yorkshire to see some of the family who hadn’t met him yet and I think he wooed every last one of them, all beautiful big eyes and killer smiles, in a way that made it totally worth all the service station hopping up the motorway to get there.
But apart from that these weeks have just been of the simple stay at home variety; days of just being tucked up in the sling as we do the laundry or go to the shops; days of being tickled by his sisters or snuggling up with H; days of the sort of perfect ordinariness that make it feel like he has always been here. And I’m loving every one of them.