On a lighter note, I put Jack down in his cot for a nap the other day. At night, we put him in a Grobag but I don't usually bother during the day. He didn't seem very tired, but I pulled down his blind and left his room just in case he reconsidered. I sat in front of my computer and started to read my emails, and I suddenly felt as if I was being watched. There, standing in the door with a huge grin, was my son. He managed to escape from his cot completely soundlessly, which was both hilarious and very unnerving. Needless to say, we have decided that it's time he move into his Big Boy Bed.
He's become more talkative by the day, and I'm absolutely loving it. Even in his stroppy moments, I can't help but smile. For example, "More juice. More juice, please. More juice, PLEASE. MORE JUICE, PLEASE! PLEEAAASE!!! Thank oo." Grumpy yet polite; I like that.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank Jack and Heather for getting my son addicted to Hairy Maclary. It started with a book of stories given to him on his Naming Day when he was 6 months old, and has reached a crescendo with the DVD they very kindly sent him for Christmas. Oh my, but he loves Hairy. When he comes home from nursery, he runs to the living room and grabs the DVD remote, frantically pushes buttons and says "More Hairy, please!" until we either tell him that Hairy's sleeping at the moment, or we relent and pop it on for him. He's named his firestation Dalmatian dog after Bottomley Potts (covered in spots), so he's got two stuffed dogs called "Puppy" and one called "Spots". I think they are fantastic stories and I'm really pleased that we were introduced to them by our Kiwi friends.
And finally, my favourite recent Jack moment: while playing with one of his trains in front of a mirrored wardrobe, he looked up and spotted his reflection. "MY TRAIN!" he shouted to himself, clutching the train tightly to his chest, eyeing himself suspiciously.