13/52

Late again - I thought, oh, Steve will be here for the four day bank holiday weekend, and then Steve was here for the four day bank holiday weekend and we were Doing Things and I didn't get as far as posting.

But, I did decide when I took it what this weekend's photo would be.



One of the Things we Did was move Jamie up to his proper high chair. Up until now, he's had a reclined bouncy seat that clips onto the top and that allowed him to be up at table with us for mealtimes even though he couldn't yet sit up or eat. Which has been nice, it's got him into the rhythm of mealtimes as social occasions and also allowed me and Steve to eat with two hands. But now, he gets to sit up properly, and he gets his own spoon too. Occasionally it even has a smear of something on it. We couldn't call it eating, not yet, but as you can see he seems to like his high chair and that has to be a good thing.

12/52

This week's picture makes me smile every time I see it.



It's the wide eyes, the happy surprised mouth, the blur of hands, and above all else, the confidence with which Jamie now enjoys tummy time, pushing himself right up, total head control, using his hands and kicking his legs. I'm putting together a scrapbook of photos (currently only just past Steve's paternity leave, although in my defence there's pregnancy photos and scans in there too, and each picture has a handwritten caption) and among the 0-3 months photos yet to be placed is one of my tiny little scrap of a baby, flopped over a banana-shaped tummy time pillow, looking (a) unimpressed, and (b) unlike a being capable of independent movement. It still bewilders me to think that only a few months and my milk has turned that baby into this increasingly strong little boy.

11/52

Or, Mother's Day 2016.

Steve has no great tradition of Mother's Day observance. A phone call or text message, perhaps. In my family, I usually send my mum a card and gift in the "box of chocolates" ballpark. Following our pregnancy losses, it became one of those things that repelled me and I would just try and order the chocolates while mentally holding my breath.

For my first Mother's Day as a mother, I'd be lying if I said it didn't mean anything to me but I didn't want to make a Big (and aggressively pink) Thing out of it.



So here's Mother's Day. Bed. Pyjamas. Packet of biscuits. Card "to the loveliest mum in the wide world". And my baby, rapidly morphing into my little boy, comfortable and happy in my lap and looking at me as if I am indeed the loveliest mum in the whole wide world.

I'll take it. :)

10/52

If there were ever any doubts about Jamie's paternity...



... I am declaring them quashed.