Happy Two Months Old

Dear Fred,

Today you turned two months old, and WHAT a two months it has been. Our lives have been so much richer with you in it, and the PreFred Period seems an ancient and mundane time. So great is your impact, that your dad and I marvel daily over the fact that it has been a mere two months since Australia stormed to a famous victory at Adelaide Oval, and you ripped your way into this world and our hearts.

Over these past two months your dad and I pretty much only really talk about you and the many marvelous things you have been up to. Which is no bad thing considering that the last conversation we had about anything else revolved around me not having ‘goal-driven ambition’ or something. But our conversations couldn’t be richer or more satisfying.

You are such a good little boy, so easy and amicable. In the depth of my sleepless nights when I find myself barely keeping a very frustrated banshee at bay, I can take stock and appreciate how lucky I have it. Last night you slept from midnight to 8am, for the second time in a few days. You little legend. If you want to give me one of those nights, once a week, I will quite happily take your 3am, 4am or 5am kitten-esque screams for the rest.

You eat ferociously and indiscriminately. Whether it is my boob or a bottle, you latch on with a desperation that suggests you have not fed for days and then proceed to groan and ‘mmm’ away in utter delight. Compliments to the chef have never been so forthcoming before in my meal-making life. It is a privilege to feed you.


Your smiles. Dear god, your little smiles. They are tiny flowers, dancing fairies and golden rays of light on a thousand rainbows. They are the very reason your father and I decided to become parents. To wake in the morning and be greeted by smiles so large they take over your body, causing you to kick and wave your arms, to squeal at a pitch only audible to dogs is absolute bliss. We will never grow sick of these. I will never get over the dimple in your right cheek. You are too ridiculously cute; looking at you makes me forget to blink.

It wouldn’t be fair to celebrate your second month without giving appropriate props to your changing table. You ADORE being changed. When your father and I are unable to settle you, we are safe in the knowledge that the wobbly changing table and its resident 5-headed elephant sponge (don’t ask) will do the trick. It is your happy place – no more evidenced by the fact that your relentless kicking – which has been a constant since you were pretty much conceived – reaches a fever pitch here.


This past month you have started to pick up so many new things. Staring at yourself in the mirror. Poking your tongue out when I poke out mine. Reaching for and holding my hand with a vice-like grip. And talking, wonderful, wonderful talking. A conversation with you where – as it has been pointed out – my dignity is left firmly at the door, is one I would happily forsake all others for. To watch your brain tick over as you consider what I say, to see your mouth move furiously and soundlessly to try to make it work and to then be a part of your triumphant smiles when you elucidate a mumbled 'ooo' or resounding ‘cooo’ is simply joyous. To hear your noises and to see how happy they make you, makes my heart cry because I know, I know, I know, that the reason they make you so happy is because YOU are communicating with ME. You might as well be saying ‘I love you Mum’ because it couldn’t be any clearer.


You are the shining might in our lives. I am so lucky to be able to spend every day with you, watching you learn, sharing your joys and sorrows. Whilst sometimes I dream of an afternoon, nay an hour, to myself, I would not change my days with you for anything. Your dad feels the same. Every day he works himself at 110% to provide you with the very best future he can, and each night he rushes home to try to get some of your bathtime (when you are in absolute peak form). Your time here is flying by, it is such a precious commodity that we don’t want to miss a thing. We love you more than we dreamt possible, in a way that you will only understand when you yourself have children.

Happy Two Month Old, little Freddy. I can’t wait to see what you do next.
xxMum