We appear, punkin, to have figured out the whole food thing with you.
In a move that has surprised no-one who knows either of your parents, we've already established to a large extent that you are an ... independent child. A child who, whilst he will consider the suggested course of action, will invariably take such advice on its individual merits as to his own planned agenda, and as such may or may not take said advice.
Such is your strategy with food. It seems that you beleive that food proffered on a spoon, punkin, by one of your longsuffering parents, must be some kind of a trap or poison. You flail your head from side to side, clamp your mouth shut and do everything possible to fling the spoon from you with your tiny, gorgeous chubby arms.
The VERY SAME food, can, however, be presented to you (in bunnykins flatware, natch) for you to sample as you see fit, to whirl around, to squish between your fingers and mash in your hair and throw on the floor, AND YOU EAT IT. Not very much of it gets eaten, this goes without saying, but some of it does. And that, brambling, is no small victory from our perspective. With you starting day care in a matter of days, there's going to be scant chance for you to indulge your favoured culinary delight of jus d'boob.
So it's chunks of bananaaaanana for you. And cheese. And vegeroni. And avocado. And anything else we can convince you to stick in your teething mouth.
Oh yes, the teething thing. In a move that only serves to further cement your ties with creatures of the netherworld (being named after the person who wrote Dracula and a character from Buffy respectively), it seems that you have elected that your third tooth will be a fang. Pictures soon.
Love you.
3 comments:
Not Buffy, unkypol, a character from Buffy. Namely Spike. It is no secret that I campaigned fairly heavily for Bram's first name to actually BE Spike, but was shouted down by much more reasonable brains than my own. So yes. Spike, who got his name through his habit of nailing his victims through the heads with railroad spikes, had originally been called William.
William the Bloody, on account of his bloody awful poetry.
The fact that William is also my middle name, and a name that appears prominently in both Peeny and Deeny family trees, including but not limited to two of Bram's great-grandfathers is beside the point. He's named after Spike from Buffy.
i don't get that then bill - cos how can you have the same name twice? is your first name something different - like wour-lass?
It's somewhat confusing Brambill. Your Mum's first name isn't Eve; your Dad's first name isn't Bill. And who knows what we'll all be calling you when you are thirty. For the record your dad is actually Matthew William Dennis. For a couple of days when he was really little he was called Thomas. Grandad Ian and I couldn't make up our minds about a name. In the end Grandad Ian got his wishes - a boy called Bill. It took a couple of years for us to realise that your Dad was a Bill and not a Matthew though. You can always count on Rowdy to tell you the story. As for you Mum's change of name - that's her story to tell.
It's just a little over three weeks, not that I'm counting.
Is there anything you want or need from the land of plenty of after Christmas sales?
love and hugs to all of you
Rowdy Grammy
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