1.  Walking

2.  Writing

3.  Silence Of The Seahorse

Son 2 aged 14m has started choosing to totter a few steps to get where he wants to go.  Rather than crawling.  About one in three times.  He did it today without thinking - as opposed to standing in TA-DA mode, with a huge expectant grin on his face, launching himself forward into doting outstretched arms and making sure everyone’s clapping.  And he did it without us egging him - we kept catching him doing it.  He can walk, often, for 10+ paces  at a time; he can change direction.  His balance is good.  He’s standing confidently for longer periods.  I think today is the first day I can say he is starting to walk.  And from everything we already know about Son 2, we Need Reins.  Now.

I was off today, so Wonder Nanny and I took the boys to the Aquarium.  Son 2 loves fish  -  he repeatedly opens and closes his mouth every time he sees one in a picture, and he was spellbound.  There are some tanks at a good baby height and he stood up against them and stared and stared and pointed and uh-ed and stared.    Son 1 aged 4y 2m was delighted and excited, and loved the sharks and the turtles and the seahorses and spotting Nemo characters.  He drew a sea monster for a display of children’s drawings.  He coloured in a shark in the cafe.   And then, in yellow pencil on white paper (so I now can’t see it) he did a half-decent effort at writing his name.  The letter shapes were there… in order.  Not in scale with each other, not entirely recognisably Roman, and nose-diving down the page.  But it was there.

It was a Good Thing seeing Son 2 so relaxed and comfortable with Wonder Nanny.  In the car we discussed Son 2’s sleeping.  For his  daytime nap, she has a routine to send him to sleep, but if he starts “interacting” with her, she leaves the room.  She’s found it hard over the last couple of weeks.  We both think the MMR whacked his system.  She thinks I should try Controlled Crying at night. Can’t.  I always go back.  This evening I put him down, sang him his lullaby, and he started getting up, biting my hand, sticking his fingers up my nose, rolling over, pressing his head against mine and grabbing the bars of the cot.  That’s interacting, I thought, and I said goodnight, kissed him, and went to Son 1.  Son 2 raged and roared and ranted.  “We’ll do two books,” I said to Son 1, “then I have to go  back to Son 2 because I can’t stand him making that noise.”  ”OK,” said Son 1.  We looked up the things we saw today in his Ocean Encyclopedia.  Son 2 fell silent during the seahorse.