Life of Pip

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Milk

We take a break from my account of our trip to Spain. Given that the last report was over a month ago, I think that the break has already started. Anyway…

A bit of background: Our days start between 5:30 and 6 (yes, even on weekends) with Hamish waking up. Sometimes he yells. If we don’t answer soon enough for him, he’ll add hitting the wall to emphasise his desire to get up. Sometimes he wakes and is quite content to lay in his bed, talking to himself: “teddy”, “no, no, no”, “bath”. I always wonder what he’s thinking to get such a random assortment of words. Perhaps he’s just practicing. Usually a “mummy!” or “daddy!” gets thrown in for good measure.

When I’m ready, or he gets too loud, I go in to get him. Most of the time, upon seeing me, he lifts up his arms and says, “Ka?”, his word for milk.

I take him into the kitchen, and make him his bottle. If it’s a weekday, we sit downstairs, cuddling in the armchair. If it’s the weekend, we go upstairs to the leather chair and watch the sun rise over the ocean. He’s getting quicker at drinking, but he seems to slow down in the mornings, or maybe it’s just my imagination. We generally have a good 10-15 minutes together, enjoying the quiet (interrupted only by his slurping) as we both wake up.

I do realise he’s probably too old for a bottle, and maybe even for milk in the mornings. But I wouldn’t trade this time with him for anything. Eventually he won’t want his morning bottle any longer, but I hope I still have a little more time yet. I’m in no hurry for him to leave this part of babyhood behind.

And now, a picture from just before we left for Spain. I think he’s saying, “Yeah? What you looking’ at?”

Yeah? What you looking' at?

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