Keeping up with Thomas’s blog gets trickier the bigger and busier he gets, between play dates, jumping beans, coffee groups, walks and excursions to parks, beaches, art galleries, zoo,bars, visits to Grandad and general house destruction I can’t keep up. So below is a catch up post written a while back at 11 months when his godmother Kate was in town.
This post is a little belated due to having a very busy time with international visitors and a weeks stay on Waiheke.
Kate, Thomas’s godmother, and Jake are here from London so Thomas has been having a merry time with them doing lots of swimming and playing and reading. Thomas is now 11 months and it’s the countdown to turning one! I can’t believe how quickly time has past.
Thomas loves climbing the stairs and can go down backyards about 8 in a row but not the full 21 steps yet. When we say ‘up’ he mimics the word but not sure this counts as his first word, he also mimics bye when we say it and loves waving and clapping. He loves climbing in and out of his paddling pool, swimming in the surf, eating beach debris, going on swings, rough and tumble play, turning book pages very quickly and my iPhone cord. He loves eating raisins, blueberries, fish, peach, nectarine, carrots, courgettes, cheese and most foods put in front of him and especially food off our plates. Thomas loves chatting and calling out to get your attention, chasing you and being chased, finding you when hiding and crawling through small spaces.
Thomas has had his first fever which took him out for about 6 days but he bounced back to being his busy self on day seven. I was impressed that he remained in good humour despite being poorly, it certainly did not stop him flirting at the supermarket.
He has his two top front teeth coming down and he loves biting us which is not great to be on the receiving end!
Thomas likes to brush his own hair and teeth with mixed results.
Timmy was also over from London so we had a good few catch ups with him too over a glass of wine.
So nice for Thomas to meet all these excellent people – lucky son of a gun.