Dumpie has really come into his own this past week. He's gone from standing up in his cot (bouncing and squealing like an over-enthusiastic bat) to climbing the stairs. Really. He's so far made it up two steps and thinks he is so clever and no matter where you put him down (the front room, the kitchen, the hallway)....in a matter of moments he'll be up on those stairs, grinning widely and in the process of lifting up another chunky leg to go one more step up.
Today the baby activity centre that I ordered on the internet arrived. As if our house isn't already ENTIRELY over-run with toys, gadgets and musical instruments, i have to go and get ANOTHER loud, plastic, bulky piece of material which will take up even MORE coveted floor space in our already crowded flat...but i just couldn't resist. And for once i was right - ol' Dumpie Dumps LOVES it!
He sits on his little bench and if one were shortsighted it would appear that a middle-aged man is rather seriously hammering out a composition in a giant concert hall. Even his fat little foot gets wagging in time to the music and it really is rather amusing. (Okay, the amused just happen to be 'Mama, Dada, and Auntie'...but I assure you we are being objective :)
It's good to see that even though he's still taking fairly regular 'beatings' in terms of jealous outpourings from older brother Egg (sometimes it's just Egg with his face squished right up to Dumpies', admonishing him about all sorts of infantile behaviour and yelling in his face like a drill sargeant) he is now starting to assert himself a little. It's almost as though he knows how much Egg HATES having his hair pulled - and I swear he is stepping up the incidence on purpose in order to get his own back!
Anyway, am off to bed as a big poker game just ended. It was my dad, jay, Auntie Ba and I. Although I started with good luck and outlasted all but my Dad, my downfall was not paying enough attention to the chips and somehow - even though i won the most rounds - my Dad ended up with the most chips. I blame the wine and the distraction of nibbles at the table. Dad is of course admitting no wrongdoing but he did acquiese rather easily when I made him promise to buy all the rounds of cappucino's for the coming month. The sign of a guilty man to be sure.
Tomorrow is meant to be thundery and wet but Sunday - joint fathers day AND mr. egg's 3rd birthday - is meant to be gorgeous. I love London in the summer.