Olivia at Westminster Station

These photos were taken on our way to Wimbeldon last year.

2 More Sleeps till Plane-time (including the one I am about to have when I press 'Publish')

• After almost 26 years of sucessfully never having one, this time last week I had an ingrown toenail. The pain of which can only be understood by someone else who has had one. Considering the miniscule area of injury, is totally unreasonable pain. So I spent the large part of the weekend limping, tending to my big toe and wimpering in pain. Today? Another ingrown toe. Same place, different foot. You wouldn't believe it.

• Lately at night, when I am lying in bed trying to sleep, I think of my little Fred, blissfully asleep a few feet away. And I start to miss him. I kid you not - even though I spend every waking minute catering to his every need - the minute I have time to myself... I don't want it! I actually sit there sort-of hoping that he wakes up so I have to take his sweet little body in my arms and rock him back to sleep. I never expected to feel like this, and I wonder if I will be able to enjoy the freedom that having two sets of grandparents at hand will give me for the next month....Actually. WIth a few drinks in me, I'm sure it will be quite fine. So long as my friends dont mind me boring them with Fred stories.

The most amazing thing.

OK. So apparently this is something quite a few people know about, so it's not news to them - but it was an absolute REVELATION to me. Cinema with babies. A cinema where the only people allowed to attend are those with a baby. So you watch the latest movie (today: Hot Fuzz) . Your baby cries? No-one cares. Chances are, their baby will cry too. And you can pretty much find a cinema somewhere in London, on any given day, that is running a ‘Scream Screen’. Today we went to Clapham. Next week: Greenwich. If I have my way, I will be going to this cinema at least once a week with my NCT mums (hi Emma : ) for the rest of Fred’s childhood.

Oh – and if today wasn’t brilliant enough already – Fred laughed. Three times in a row. Month 4 rocks.

Happy 3 Months Freddy!

3 Months old. Wow. You’ll be driving a car in no time (keeping in mind that if you ever cease to obey all road regulations or mix it with alcohol, you will unleash your mother’s fury in a BIG WAY. Which your father will assure you is not something you want to do).

This third month has been the one in which you have decided not to grow. Whilst other three-month old babies develop creases in their creases, you remain streamlined and petite. And this refusal to put on weight has concerned your father and I no end this past week. The snails pace of your growth was brought to light at you fortnightly check-up with the health visitor and you mother escaped that session minus a few vertebrae and with an extremely guilty conscience. And poor little you have suffered the brunt of our anxiety, enduring a week of having bottles of breastmilk shoved in your mouth during your every waking moment. And yes, sometimes when you sleep also. And whilst assurances have come from left, right and centre that all is well, we cannot shake the feeling that you have inherited your father’s ‘size’ genes and you are to grow into a little man.

This third month has seen the development of what your father and I term ‘the megapoo’. Whilst the first two months were all about small, frequent poos, we now find ourselves faced with one daily HUGE poo, that normally comes around 10.30am (right in the middle of mummy’s shift). This evolution in your excretions is good as it means more infrequent nappy changes. However, as the megapoo is often used with the phrases ‘up-the-back’, ‘down-the-leg’ or 'on my jeans' it usually involves washing and a full clothing change as well. Which of course, you don’t mind, as it gives you an extra five minutes on the hallowed changing table. And for all the times the megapoo does not require getting you naked and bathing you, I stand there absolutely marveling at the engineering that Team Pampers must have put into developing these nappies. How it does not escape every time is a miracle. An absolute miracle.

This third month has seen a few new developments to your face. The one that impresses me is your ability to raise an eyebrow. You got that from me. What is most amazing about this, is that you use it in only the most appropriate circumstances, and I now find myself subject of your soft mocking when I say typical mum things like ‘You are the cutest baby in babyland! (‘Pu-lease, mum’) or ‘Daddy has gone off to buy you a racing car today, just you wait!’ (‘Are you sure about that, mum?’). So we are now adjusting to a sarcasm we had hoped would not rear it’s head till the teen years. When we will REALLY embarrass you. Other things that have happened to your head this month include sprouting the most incredible eyelashes (longer than your fathers and mine combined) and soft hair (appears to be a heather-brown with a bald-patch in the back where it must rub on your bouncer) which has developed some cradle cap (cue furious oiling and brushing by your mum) and exploding cheeks. Yes, whilst the rest of your body remains lithe, your cheeks have ballooned and extra chin has developed. Your chipmunk face is so cute I often find myself pinching it or nibbling on it. It is all I can do to resist putting you between two pieces of bread, laying on a slice of cheese and gobbling you right up.

This third month has seen the demise of your sleeping. Whilst a couple of ‘almost trough the night’ nights last month left us excited, you have reverted to a firm 4am wake-up - and sometimes when you are feeling particularly mischievous – twice in the night. But we plod along and it is sometimes it is a challenge, but totally doable. You should, in theory, be sleeping through the night at 6 months, and as these past three have gone so quickly, the next three will also and it is a small price to pay for your all-round marvelous-ness. And when you do sleep it too is marvelous, because you have taken to smiling and squealing in your sleep. It is a joy to consider the wonderful little dreams you must be having. Maybe they are about me. Or my boob at least. And when you wake up you are as grumpy as hell. And I try to explain that there is no point in being grumpy, that you are more than welcome (in fact, encouraged) to sleep longer. But you stay awake and fuss and cry at the tragedy of not being asleep. You also get that from me.

This third month will mostly be remembered as the one where you discovered your hands. And realised that they were DELICIOUS. Like many babies, shoving your fists into your mouth is something you are happy to do for most of your waking hours, dribbling away, making loud smacking noises. You even groan with delight over your wee little fists. Last week I walked in to find you feasting on not one, but both of your fists. Clever boy. Your eyes were wide and bright with the ‘double-action’ discovery. And if you are not sucking on your hands you, are more than likely staring at them. The concentration with which you are able to look at them makes me wonder if you are taking acid without me knowing. You are also beginning to figure out that your hands can do stuff. You regularly stroke books as you gurgle over the bright colours. You try to shove everything we put in your vice-like grip into your mouth (although you have not yet mastered speed or accuracy, which has resulted in you repeatedly whacking numerous rattles into your soft skull, much to our amusement and your surprise). And you have realised how fun it is to grab mums hair and give it a bit of a yank. We had hoped we had a few more months before that begun, but as always, you are anxious to do as much as you possibly can, as quick as you can. The best discovery your hands made were when they found your feet. As each of your hands found each of your feet (I don’t know how you managed that, you don’t seem happy to do things by halves) you found yourself rocking on the changing table as you pulled your hands and pushed your feet. You were so shocked and I couldn’t stop laughing. So then of course you started smiling and squealing and as a result released your feet. That was a week ago and now on every changing table session you are swiping at your feet, trying to re-realise that amazing thing you did before.

This third month was when you learnt to spit the dummy. Literally. Which is most annoying. But it is also the month where I discovered the persuasive power of vacuum noise and as a result have the nozzle firmly stored next to your bouncer. Touché!

This third month was one where you started to smile at strangers. Whilst it is true that you rarely encounter them due to the hermit lifestyle your dad and I live, you gave that lovely saleswoman at John Lewis the sort of smile that you used to only reserve for me. And whilst I was a bit miffed inside, I was also quite excited as you smiles are golden glitter on a person’s day and everyone should experience them.

The huge impact you have on our lives continues to expand, and a time before you is a distant and hazy memory. The ways which you grow and learn new things is something that demands our daily attention and we marvel at what the future with you, Freddy, must hold. So this third month has definitely been the best so but we cannot wait to see what happens in the fourth month. No doubt it will involve you meeting your grandparents and aunties and uncles and sharing with them all your tricks. You are a little legend Freddy, we love you so much.

Happy Third Month Manny.
Love, your mum and dad