one month

(each month, noting the precious little happenings, moments, milestones)

you get called rube, reu, bug, little'un, little man, mister, squishy, possum
your face gets fuller everyday

you have delicious lips
your hair is gingery
you can hold your neck up and almost roll over
you love having a bath, especially with mama
you smell like milk and freshly washed clothes
your skin feels like velveteen
you have a big voice and like to let us know you're awake,
you love to stare at the serendipity quilt and the fairy lights
you often look pensive and serious when you're awake
you often look completely blissful and content when you're asleep
you've already gained 1 whole kilogram and grown 6 centimetres longer
you have been showered with gifts
(including sausages from our moroccan butcher)
your favourite place to sleep is in the crook of daddy's arm
(or against mama's breast)
you startle yourself awake with your arms and legs
you look like a papoose when you're swaddled
you occasionally wet mama and papa during a nappy change,
you have ridden the paris metro and crossed the seine river
you have wandered round rodin's sculpture garden,
you have nursed on the train,
you have been kissed by your mamie Lois
your favourite sounds are the bathroom fan and the vacuum cleaner,
you don't always like being put in the sling
you always like sucking a pinky finger
your breathing changes when you're dreaming
you make us laugh and sing and sigh
you've watched the sun rise
you act a little drunk after a big feed
you cuddle up to our chests like a koala bear,
your face makes even the most tired, sore, dishevelled parents melt with joy