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Huxley Harold. Our Bubby. When I’m with you my nose is permanently plastered to your neck, your ear, your hair. Because the smell of your baby creases is so delicious I wish I could bottle it and wear it every day, because I know before too long you’ll grow up and start smelling of PE lessons, cheesy feet and Lynx.
One of the best things I like to do with you is go places, anywhere, the hardware shop the co-op, the post office. You utterly charm everyone you see, including the gruff butchers today who made you giggle then drily noted that the lamb we were going to have for dinner was 9 months old- the same age of you. You are happy to smile at anyone who affords you a couple of words and this seems to be something the elderly ladies of the village like a lot. It makes my heart swell.
I want to keep you at this age forever, this age when you light up like a Christmas tree for your mummy as she’s your best pal, your number one. I like being your number one. Yet we’ve just begun to see some glimpses of your personality and the boy you’re about to come… I can’t wait for that. You’re going to be a knockout, that’s for sure.
You’re such a good looking baby. You have a definite boyish look about you and of course I’m biased but I think you could have been ordered straight out of a catalogue from ‘Pretty babies r us’. Everyone says you look like your daddy, though he’s jealous as you have more hair (that I can’t get to lie flat, no matter how many times I wash it).
You are such a fan of your big sister and I hope it stays this way for a very long time. I was in the kitchen yesterday and all I could here from the lounge was the sound of Elfie attempting to tickle you whilst you giggled gleefully at her. It’s beautiful to see you together and you really are peas in a pod with the same lovely big blue eyes.
You’re not crawling yet, or even sitting up. But I’m not worried, you roll like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Elfie wasn’t so interested in being mobile either, but now she follows me around saying “why you do that, mummy? When daddy come home from work? Drawing now mummy? Me feed bubby, now, yes?”. The way that you’re able to repeat Mama, Dada and Gaga back to me at the tender age of 9 months makes me think you’ll be a genius just like her.
Bubby, you are the most amazing baby. Now get over here so I can smell you some more.