Get up, Stand up,..

Oh no... not only is the wee lad now mobile and taking a penchant to raping, burning and pillaging all he can lay his hands on, he' now standing upright whenever he has something to cling on to.

Fair enough... thats all fine. But he also yet to fully grasp the duel concepts of a) gravity, b) pain. The end result being that he's taken more hits than Rob from Shitscared (maybe we'll have to put a helmet on him like sidekick Mick's).

Still, he kinda bounces ok, and mum and dad are on constant Mike-watch, so hopefully he'll survive this stage without losing too many neurons.

That said, its all kinda impressive for one so young. So far this week he's managed to

• drag himself to upright using the wires surrounding the deck. (Yes, a worry, given 2ft drop below...)
  
• clamber up so he can reach into the fridge (appears impervious to the cold, not that we're going to test it by closing the door on him mind you)
• stand bolt upright in his cot, necessitating a lowering of the base and hence future back incapacitation for mum and dad from having to lift him from so far down. (Spare block and tackle engine hoist, anyone?)
• climb into the crockery cupboard, thus requiring the better and breakable crockery to be moved to parts unknown where dad is, arguably by definition, still unable to find them...
  
• clamber up the stereo cabinet... and turn on the radio; mum found him dancing - she swears - standing up and hanging on with one hand, to the "La Porchetta" pizza restaurant jingle...
• pull himself up and then hang off the edges of the coffee table. Then try to eat/lick it. (Note to self; improve wipe up of milo spills/cookie crumbs.)
• grasp the side of the bath and peer over looking for toys. (On a serious note, about 6 kiddies a year drown in Aussie baths, so from now on, 1) no toys left in bath, and 2) bath always drained immediately after use.)
• finally managed to get himself high enough so he can stare into the rainguage and wonder what all the fuss is about each morning. Cos, not surprisingly, theres nothing there...

But we mostly just love that he dances. Indeed he appears to have taken quite a liking to music in the past few weeks (well, above his long held passion for the "Crocodile smile" song) and doesn't mind a bit of a boogie. Add to that the blue eyes, the blonde hair the svelt waistline and winning grin, its a wonder he's not in the worlds sexiest men list already...

"Give it time." says dad "Took me at least a decade."

However the waistline may be in for an expansion if current tastes hold out. The lad has decided that dinners of mush (i.e., pumpkin mush, zucchini mush, cauliflower mush, broccoli mush etc ) are - and understandably - boring.

He wants mum and dads food.

Which in the past week means he's tasted his first dinkum Aussie meat pie, as well as some home-made pizza. Goodbye waistline...

Ok, he's also had some bolognese sauce and a little pasta, as well as lotsa steamed veges (he's yet to cotton on that the steamed veges are identical to the mushed veges - wonder what that says about his sense of taste?) and a little pita bread, so it hasn't all been bad news.

Well, unless you are his clothes or the floor. Eating "real" food means he also wants to feed himself a little more, which also means that he wears about 20% of it, with a further 30% reaching the floor. Which inevitably, being barefoot summer time now, mum and dad stand in when they stretch out the legs under the dinner table.

Something, lets be honest, they didn't actually miss when he was babysat in the evening for the first time (thanks Nana and Grandad!) and they went out for their fifth wedding anniversary dinner... alone.

Get up, stand up. Does anything ever stay the same? Print this post