So Chris get’s to celebrate his first Father’s Day today–after he opened Tom’s gifts (a tie, a knife, a blender/chopper, and a new coffee carafe), we made coffee and went and sat in Trish and Sandy’s ‘cold-tub’. A perfect Father’s Day morning. Chris liked all his pressies–Tom went a bit overboard as he felt bad that Chris only get’s to celebrate once a year whereas I get to celebrate both British Mother’s Day and American Mother’s Day. After coffee in the cool-tub it was back to reality. Chris has just finished mowing the lawn and cleaning the kitchen.
I haven’t posted for a long time so I’m trying to think of all the things that have been going on in the past couple of months. Tom has started to cruise around the house like a pro. He’s pulling himself up on everything: the sofa, the coffee table, Jack and Mickey. He’s also blabbering a lot more but the only words he consistently says are ‘dog’ and ‘Jack’. Anything with four legs is a dog or “Dack”. He attempts to mimic words so Chris and I are trying to cut down on the naughty language–I don’t know why we bother as a certain relative (on Chris’ side, of course) gets great pleasure in trying to get Tom to say bizarre stuff. I really don’t want to have to report on this website that his first words were “numb nuts”.
On the minor accident front, he’s had his first big bruise falling from the window seat in his room and head-butting the floor before I could grab him. We put him in the England Rugby shirt that Katie and Dale brought back from their trip home and he looked like a right bruiser. The photo I sent to Grandma to thank her for a shirt was received with a mildly panicked reaction. When I talked to her on the phone she admitted that her first thought of seeing the photo was “Oh God, I’ve got a cock-eyed Great Grandson”. She was rather relieved when she read the note that told of me dropping him on his head.
Tom’s also become quite the regular at our local bar, Nomads. It’s a nice little neighborhood place that reminds me a bit of the atmosphere in a pub–local neighbors and friends hanging out without the express intention of getting drunk (not to say that it doesn’t happen unintentionally).
Tom is still having a blast at his daycare. His best friend is Mark and he’s really into his teachers, Deanna and Donna. They are down to earth and really easy-going. The only time they complain is when Tom eats all the fries in their Happy Meals. Talking of food, we have yet to find anything that Tom does not like to eat. He has tried Mexican, Thai, and Indian curries and doesn’t even flinch. We’re going to try him on black pudding and luncheon tongue when we go to England in September–surely he won’t like that.