Never mind the pandemic, we’ve had an outbreak of nits! After 10 weeks in isolation, Tilda’s somehow ended up with a lice-riddled scalp. She’s not the only one scratching her head – I’m baffled!
I’ve done these monthly updates since her birth and wonder at which point it gets weird to keep counting age this way? But Tilda’s never done things by the book – arriving over 3 months early, everything was out of kilter from the word go.
At 25 months, she’s too teeny to ride her tricycle and we can’t get shoes small enough for her feet, yet she can scale the stairs in seconds, build towering structures of blocks, and has mastered the TV remote, Twirlywoos on repeat.
She has a lot to say for herself, but few discernible words. “Aids, aids!” is her most frequent proclamation. The current limbo has thwarted the intervention needed to develop her speech. I truly hope we can make some headway before she grows frustrated at her inability to communicate verbally.
For now, she remains our chilled out ‘Machilda’, forever smiling (despite the nits!) except for a strange phase last week when she refused to be separated from a tin of tuna. Forget her dolls and bears, everywhere that Tilda went, the tuna was sure to go. I’m pleased to report she has now overcome her addiction. Who knows what quirks await us next month …