Hello, it’s Tilda here and I’m eleven months old today. What an eventful month it’s been, and not just because the roof of my house blew away in the wind! (Nothing to do with my trumps, I promise).
I’m making the most of my one and a quarter teeth, chomping finger food and people’s fingers. I’m also partial to chewing my feet – thanks for the flexibility, baby yoga. I can now sit up all on my own and I have ninja rolling skills. I’ve not quite nailed the crawling thing yet, although I do an excellent squirmy worm impression when I try.
Although I haven’t gained much weight this month (I’m hovering around 12 lb, the same as an average three-month-old) I’ve stretched 2.5 cm and outgrown my Moses basket. I’ve moved to a bigger bed which fits more toys, so I can indulge in my favourite activity – grabbing!
Fortunately, I managed not to grab anything inappropriate during my neonatal buddy Spencer’s christening. The two of us became roomies again when we had a sleepover at his house (it has a roof and everything). He’s introduced me to swimming and soft play too – what a wonderful world there is to discover beyond the incubator.
Last weekend I cemented my reputation as Most Chilled Tot™ when I partied for hours without a single grizzle at Umi’s 40th birthday celebrations. Umi is what I call my mummy. I reckon it suits her better – Mummy sounds too much like dummy and I never got on with dummies.