Birthdays

Blinking heck. It has been a whole year since Bébé FF exploded on the scene. A YEAR. 365 days of love, laughs, amazement, bewilderment, exhaustion, nappies, poonamis, sicky yogs, impromptu wee showers, emergency clean up showers, gallons of milk, gorgeous little giggles, gurgles, tears, screams, bogeys, farts, food throwing, food spitting, choking, splashing, crawling, brushing (willy included), standing, pottering, big old belly laughs, face plants, stair climbing and in the last few days stumbling steps of independence….

And I must not forget the grinning. On my face. All day every day with Bébé FF I’m grinning. Like the cat that got the cream. Except the cream has wild hair and a very cute little bottom.

So he’s been on the outside for almost a year. It’s time to celebrate. As is customary (ok, this is the first one, but I hereby announce it to be a forward-looking custom) this is not only a time to celebrate the fact Bebe FF has made it a whole year, and the fact he exists which, to be honest, we celebrate every day (at least that’s how we justify the champagne …. just kidding!) Let’s also celebrate the fact that mummy and daddy have managed to keep their sh1t sufficiently together to get to this point. Let’s celebrate the fact we’ve been a family for a year. Let’s celebrate our special friends that we made when we were preparing to become a family and who have been there for all the milestones this year. Let’s celebrate the endless support from our family and friends around us. And let’s celebrate the fact that my body, that grew and kept you Bebe FF safe for all those months, has just about recovered to the point where I don’t get offered a priority seat on the train anymore. Winning! No, wait….

In the past year I’ve learnt a lot about myself and Mr FF, as well as starting to see the character traits of the little person we’ve created. We’ve become more of a unit, and less independent. We want to be at home in our sanctuary, together, and not out on the tiles (ok, that’s a little bit obligatory). We sometimes don’t talk to each other, but through le petit, and we are occasionally guilty of extreme bouts of hanger when we haven’t managed quite to plan dinner. But we know each other so well we can immediately resolve the problem (pasta pesto – BOOM) and we are a bloody brilliant team. We take it in turns to share the jobs and the joys. And there are plenty. Of both.

As to the Bébé we can see he’s curious and charming (read: flirt) stubborn and strong, bloody fast at getting away if you try to grab him. He’s a bit fussy and a lot sensitive. He gets scared but he’s also brave. I wouldn’t say he’s fashion conscious, but if he’s not keen on an outfit he sure knows how to power poo his way out of it. He has a sense of timing similar to his daddy, especially if running late he will always find a way to make us just that little bit later. He also shares with his papa a strong desire to talk all the time. Like his mama he loves bread, and painting, and peering into people’s eyes. He also has similar wardrobe filling skills although admittedly that is directly my doing. Cache tout avant que papa arrive!

Now what lies ahead in the next year? Eating solid food and not spitting out the “hard” bits? Blinking hope so! A haircut? Rather pressing. More teeth? The nappy activity suggests sooner rather than later. Talking? We are getting dangerously close. Tantrums,… quite possibly if the reaction to “no you can’t put your hand in the bin” is anything to go by. Whatever lies ahead I can’t wait. But to you, first year, I bid you a fond and emotional farewell. You have been epic. You have lived up to all my expectations and more. You have toute à la flûte nailed it and I am just gutted that you flew by so quickly. But I thank you for all the memories. Onwards and upwards.

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the FFs x