A Not So Turkish Life

Blink

MK, I started writing this post weeks ago. 2,3 maybe. And since then, most of what I wrote you’ve already surpassed.

This week you’ve sculpted a 3D elephant, spent hours meticulously engrossed in applying paint to dinosaur stamps to recreate your own “Great Valley” and have mastered the art of peeling vegetables. You’ve kneaded bread dough and blended soup and completed jigsaw upon puzzle, upon snap cards.

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This week, you’ve watched with pride as T’s start to speak and have come into your own as an encouraging, caring, doting brother. “I teach you baby” you say, as you pull out Lego blocks. “One, two, tree, dort, besh.” “ooops! Mummyyyyyyy!” Baby bwoke it!” ” Again baby, bir, iki…” “Mummy! again! I get him!” as you rip off his socks and devour warm ticklish toes as T squeels with surrendered belly laughter.

“Come here, baby” you say. “Mummy, baby gwumpy. He need cuddle Mummy.” and you hug him, really tight, smooshing your lips into the top of his head. Then, as ‘Baby’s soft cuddle turns sumo wrestling, “Go baby. Go dwink milk” and you push him to me.

Your elephants have morphed into hippos with toes, vegetable peeling is now chopping and you mastermind cushion cars with your brother as co-pilot. Still enamored by T’s new-found ability to talk you encourage him and translate for him, putting your delightful interpretations of grammar to use, “I think so you want to say ‘yes’, baby?” – he’ll go to school still being “Baby”!

With your puzzle skills perfected, you’ve developed that logic further, twirling yarn loops around door handles generating pulley-maze games, fashioning rivets out of sticks by the lake. Your hair, already then regrown into a untameable bounce of wave, is a two-tone mass of abundance, transfixing our gaze onto a confident newborn childs’ aging face.

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You’ve left nappies behind you, will ‘read’ as well as be read to and have entered an imaginations dream. Whether it’s convincingly passing off a hoodie-clad panda with a beaker over his nose as a “sharp tooth” dinosaur ready to eat his morning meal, or feeding us gourmet meals resembling wooden block pieces your inner head vision is bursting out more each day, giving our world a vibrant energy and laughter much.

From just then to now, in the time it took me to come back to load up photos, your toddler boy has receded just a little bit more, a fascinating little boy peeping out from the centre.

A few weeks ago, unloading the dishwasher after lunch – a task you revel in ticking off your chart on the fridge – you paused mid-plate removal to drop it back and fling your whole self at me. Beaming peering up at me, your arms wrapped tight around my legs “I got youuuu, Mummy” you said with a giggle.

My tender boy, you’re a goof, you’re intense and extreme, sensitive and fearless and beautiful; you wake every morning saying “I’m hungry, Mummy.” a fact not exclamation and fall asleep every night nestled tight in my arms.

How little do you know how very true those simple words: You’ve got me, Babyone, you’ve really got me.

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This entry was published on 02/14/2014 at 19:31. It’s filed under Baby 'n' Me, From Me to You, Photos and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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