Rocking the Suburbs.

Dear Rocco,

It has come to my attention that in the nearly 6 months you have been on this earth, I have not blogged about you. In typical first-born fashion, your brother not only outnumbers you in photos, but you have the added misfortune of a blogging mother who once upon a time did monthly Fred blogs. And in this respect you have indeed gotten less. And it’s sort of indicative of this place in life that your father and I look at each other in shock at how extraordinarily quickly you have become the size and maturity that you are. You brother had our undivided attention for 20 months there and each miniature milestone was met with gasps of delight and demands of repetition. Yours largely goes unnoticed, indeed when you started walking this week we had a heated argument as to who noticed you crawling last week.

Because unfortunately you happen to be second-in-command to the household’s ruling 2 year old, whose character and demanding nature lie at the other end of the spectrum to yours. But we appreciate this fortuitous synergy, particularly in that it gives me someone to exchange an eye-brow raise with when Fred has an apocalyptic melt-down over being unable to free his thumb from his jumper sleeve. I’ve been told that the second one is usually easier, which given the character of your brother and the fact that your dad and I know a few more tricks, was probably inevitible. However the degree to which you are relaxed and content is startling, you fit as though you had always been here, the final piece to the puzzle.

In character, you are a delight. And absolute delight and a gift from all the Gods I never believed in, but now give props to each time you smile. Which is a lot. Whilst Fred required a knock knock joke whilst juggling to elicit a faint smile, you simply need our attention. You sit the re quietly, staring with absolute love at me… waiting… waiting…until I look at you. And when I do, you are beside yourself!! You coo, you giggle, you smile, and you poke out your tongue and flap your arms. I melt. You melt. We cuddle. Bliss. You are my fat little nugget of cuddling, giggling, delight.

If someone had told me I was going to have the perfect baby, I would have smiled and said that all babies are perfect. This is essentially true - I would have thought - until I met you. I struggle to find ONE thing that could possibly be improved on, one trait which I can mock (as I will tend to do on here). You offer nothing. NOTHING. You are as bright and easy and as willing as a little thing can be. You sleep like an angel at the designated times, you eat with a passion. For two people who have struggled for almost 2 years to get their first child to have a solid meal, you can not underestimate the joy that your desperate baby bird mouth – wide open, ready for more the second each previous one is swallowed - gives us. It is heaven. You are focused on your toys and everything around you, quietly and consistently beating those milestones of physical and mental growth. You laugh and engage without provocation and have gentleness and openness of heart which I know will give me, your father and brother such pleasure for years to come. I swoon over you each and every moment I have with you, which being in love as we two are, is every waking moment. To have a kid like you is beyond my wildest imaginations.

But the thing that surprises me the most (and least) is the love. Before you were born, your father and I spent hours wondering how it would be possible to love another kid as much as we love Fred. How our hearts could possibly have room to do that without bursting. And yet they did. The moment I lay eyes on you, my heart broke into a million pieces then regenerated into the biggest, strongest, most love-thumping heart this world has ever known. We are so blessed and rich for having you and your brother in our lives. It is most certainly the reason I was put on this earth, the answer to all the questions. To know that you are in my future makes the prospect of those upcoming 30s, 40s easily most exciting and rewarding time of my life.