Letter to Tricky - 18 months old

Dear Tricky,

Hey little man, it's been six long months since I last wrote to you and so much has happened that I should have been keeping notes.

Your Perth Pop reminded me the other day that you've now been alive longer than your Aunty Jo-Anne. In the weeks leading up to this milestone he has spoken about her so much... he has spoken more about her in the last 18 months than he has in the last thirty years. It's sad but I think you have healed him more than anyone can measure - he's a different person now and it's all because of you. Unsurprisingly, he's your favourite person to be around.

Such a big boy

You haven't been for your 18 month assessment yet but I'm pretty sure you'll do fine. You've got about 35 words and nearly 20 signs but you're still not much of a talker - you like to sit and figure out how things work more so than talk. This is probably why you can already solve your Shape-O except for the octagon and hexagon which confuse you (unless you're tired or hungry in which case the whole thing becomes a projectile). And yep, Mama is showing off right now... because of your bumpy beginning it means I'm allowed to once in a while.

You know lots of colours, all your body parts and clothing items and point them out when we ask... and we ask you a lot because it's just so cute to watch. It also means you've become my little slave because I can just ask you to go get your shoes while I'm busy tweeting cooking.

Our first overseas holiday with you was amazing. You were fantastic on the plane and then spent the rest of our holiday being told how gorgeous you are by strangers who would come up and touch your cheeks cooing "Hello baby!". Every second one would ask for your photo and some would even pose for a photo with you - since you don't tend to smile at strangers a lot of people got your big, pouty lips but they didn't seem to mind.

But not too big to fall asleep in Mama's arms

Your hair turned in to ringlets in the humidity of Malaysia and as soon as we touched back down to the dry summer heat of Perth it went mostly straight again. Your Dad is trying to convince me to get your hair cut but I love your hair long. I've already had to de-mullet you and trim your fringe, but I love being able to twiddle my fingers in your hair when you're feeding, and by the way you grab my hand and put it back there when I stop, I think you like it too. Plus, well, you'll look like such a little boy with a hair cut, and I'm holding on to the last strands of babyhood for a while longer if I can.

Time is flying by and it's almost your second Christmas. I'm pretty sure you will scream if we take you to sit on Santa's knee because you're so wary of strangers. Even at Mothers' Group you still take the better part of two hours to warm up and you've seen those kids every week for over a year. You're just my little shy guy... and that's OK. I know you giggle, I know you smile. It makes it all the more precious when you do.

All my love, little man,

Mama xxx