Not just a little bit. A lot. Too much, almost. You are so confident in the water that it borders on dangerous. You have no right to be so arrogantly confident in the swimming pool, but nevertheless, you throw yourself out of our arms and 'swim' about, going up to people and smiling in their faces. You have also taught yourself to lay perfectly still because when you do, you float like a little chunky seal. We wish we could film you swimming about, having a blast in the pool, but the paedophiles ruined that for everyone.
We took these photos off the nursery website after you had enjoyed 'making marks' all over the place. You love making marks. The concentration on your face in the top picture is brilliant. You'd have thought that what you were creating was some sort of masterpiece. It isn't.
Apparently you ate more of the paint than you actually painted with.
This understatement very much upset your parents, Noah. At your one year check (which happened to be closer to 15 month check), the nurse was very impressed with your progress. She asked your mummy questions like, "If you point to something, does he say what it is?" To which your proud mum said, truthfully,
"Well, if we ask him to go and collect something and put it away somewhere else, he understands how to do that. He's been able to do those kinds of things for months. He will pretty much try and say any words we say to him."
The lady wrote in your notes, "Saying a few words."
We appreciated this understatement very much, as you can imagine.
When you are very tired or have a fever (you've only had one so far, to be fair,) you become an extraordinarily affectionate boy. The novelty of you as a new child hasn't worn off for us yet so we still melt when you get like this. It probably won't last much longer. The novelty, I mean. Soon we'll just say, "BED!"
You can't say, "Happy," yet. Instead, you just say, Baddy. It has really caught on as we all seem to call him Baddy now. Poor cat mustn't know whether he's coming or going. Anyway, whilst you are an entirely different species, you are really like two brothers. You are always playing together and, despite the handful of minor scratches on your hand and Baddy's possible internal damage, you don't harm each other much.
.You love the bath, but when Baddy comes in the bathroom, you always want to see him. Mummy called it "barg" for a laugh.
It's not very often you are the youngest human being in the house, so last week was a treat.
You and Finley got on a storm.
Finley loved it so much that he pooed his bodyweight when you went down for a nap. "Mummy!" he said, "I hope you bought a whole world of wipes and a gas-mask, because it is a flippin' warzone down there." There was a pause while he thought of a simile, "It's like the scene on the beach in Saving Private Ryan in that nappy."
Over the weekend, your Daddy and Mummy treated you to an experience you'll never remember.
Meadowhall.
Your favourite bit was when you got to eat. We took some healthy foods with us for you to have, but when you saw our McDonald's breakfasts, you insisted on eating a hash brown. We are model parents usually, you must understand. Here were some choice photos (including one on the way home where you were sneakily removing your shoes for the fifteenth time that day).
PS, if Channel 5 are currently making a documentary about you called, "Two Tonne Teenager", we are truly sorry.
Always with an eye for a photograph, your Mummy managed to get these brilliant shots of you the other day. It was morning, you were up early and chilling out with your loving, tired parents. As you were standing at the end of the bed, with the morning light beaming in through the window, your Mum shouted, "Peter Pan!"
She then fumbled for her camera and took these (not the first one, this really is Peter Pan.)
We can't wait for this piece of shit story to be made into an action adventure with Big Russ as Noah. What I really like is some of the reaction to the film version from the press screenings. There was one Christian reviewer (and for the life of me I can't find the review now) who said that Aronofsky has taken liberties with the story and made Noah a 'dark' character. No shit. Noah is a dark character. He was mentally unwell, hearing voices:
"So God said to Noah, “I am going to put an end to all people"
He was impossibly old:
"Noah lived a total of 950 years, and then he died."
He got hammered on wine;
"When he drank some of its wine, he became drunk."
And showed his cock to his son.
"Ham, the father of Canaan, saw his father naked and told his two brothers outside."
So yeah, he's a dark character alright. The following picture is from a deleted scene from the movie where Noah gets wasted:
You've been doing art for the past few weeks and, at first, your mummy and I did not really think you have talent in that department. Then on February 14th, we changed our minds. At nursery, you had been encouraged to make us a Valentine's card. Instead, you took the opportunity to make a political point about Syria. Instead of making a typical card, you depicted the plight of the Syrian people and their daily struggle against a bloodthirsty, tyrannical regime by smearing 'blood' over your canvas.
We were very impressed.
By the way, the war in Syria is probably over by the time you understand this; not because there is peace, but because all the civilians are dead. Perhaps, over on BBC news, they are covering a story of the UN unearthing scores and scores of mass-graves and the media is asking the apt question: why didn't we do something? How could we let this happen?!
How indeed.
On the inside, you stuck to a traditional message but you did disclose your identity which is breaking rule number one of sending a card on Valentine's day. In Mummy's card to Daddy, she simply put, "Enjoy your VD." Clever.
Apart from The Iliad by Homer, Calm Down, Boris is probably your favourite book. We've read it to you a great number of times, always trying our best to make silly and brilliant monster impressions to try and make you interested. It never worked.
Until now.
At the minute, you just adore, Calm Down, Boris. "The thing is, Daddy: the protagonist is both intensely vulnerable and fatally flawed," you lamented. "As a reader I feel compelled down both avenues of the dichotomy." You paused, briefly, before continuing, "On the one hand, Boris is pushed towards the fringes of his social circle because of his implied 'tickly disability,'" you said, making the quotation marks with your fingers, "and on the other hand, it is because of this 'flaw' that ultimately makes him the hero of the story. The true hero of the story is the dog, in my opinion. The dog is the character that Boris, unwittingly, owes his life to." A longer pause while you took a sip from your beaker, "Without the dog, Boris has no redemption, which, ultimately forces him into an ever decreasing circle of self-loathing and social isolation."
"It's just a funny story about a monster." We told you.
Mummy, daddy, Nicky Campbell and some other friends, hanging out on the tele. Last week, Noah, your mummy and I went on a TV show called, "The Big Question." It's a debate show that goes out live most Sundays from various cities around the country. There is always a current hot topic discussed and there is always a question concerning religion. Your mummy and I find it fascinating because of the odd people who it brings out of the woodwork with some insane beliefs and views.
Anyway, as you can see, we put our most serious, 'clever' faces on. What this picture doesn't tell you is that, 30 seconds prior to this shot, I asked the woman sitting next to us how much money I'd have to pay her to scream, "Nicky Campbell, you racist!" whilst the show was going out live. She said she just wouldn't do it.
Boring.
For the record, Nicky Campbell is not racist (I think).
A few weeks ago, your Grandad tried to get you to wink. You couldn't do it. You knew it had something to do with closing your eyes in a slightly abnormal way, but that's about all you knew. Today you seemed to be a little better, but not yet quite there.
Your mummy and I tried to teach you how to high five today. I know, I know, I know it's a horribly American, vapid thing to do and it is a cheap and easy trick but we don't care at all. We are both cheap and easy in abundance.
Only thing is, you don't say, 'High five,' you say, 'A-bass.'
