"No."

I have spent the last week in London on a trip with the school. It's the longest time I've been apart from you since you were born. Your Mummy sent me some pictures of you and a couple of videos, but she saved this one for when I got back.

This is the first time I've ever seen you actually use the word, 'No.'

Something tells me it won't be the last time I hear it, either...

Slides rule. Slides simply rule.

You flippin' love slides so much.

Noah. Sebastian. Arffer. Webb.

A couple of weeks ago, your Grandma taught you how to say your full name. Trouble is, whenever we ask you, 'What's your name?' You don't bother with the 'Noah' bit...

Where the Wild Things Are

Coming towards the end of your second June, you are suddenly making some particularly giant leaps in your progress. Small things start occurring and they suggest you are becoming more and more aware. For the first time, you have begun to show fear of the unknown. You have been slightly more wary about wandering into a dark room and anything you don't like the look of, you tell us that it is, 'Scary.' Here is an example of that:

Scaaaary!

Counting

At the time of writing, you have absolutely nailed counting to ten. However, something seems to happen when we stick a camera in front of your face and try to get that on film. You become suddenly unable to do it, much to our frustration. Here are two more successful attempts. 

Spaghetti: another big favourite

Everyone is a winner with your new-found love for spaghetti. It is a really easy meal for us to make for you and you love it. We just boil some spaghetti, stir in some pesto, punch in a couple of olives and/or cherry tomatoes and the job's a good'un. 

Thank you, Lizzy

This was your thank you video to Lizzy at work because she got you some olives. I don't know how clear we have made this so far, but you love olives.

At the start of the video when you are saying, 'Adoo! Adoo! Adoo!' that is just how you say, 'Thank you,' at this stage.

The Zoo. Part 2

Here are some of the videos from your trip to the zoo. Not a turtle in sight.

The Zoo. Part 1

Animals appear to be something featuring very highly on your 'favourite things' list. You are able to remember new animals very easily and you enjoy trying to make the noises that they make.

In a book called, 'Slowly slowly slowly said the sloth,' there are a lot of different animals and you very much enjoy telling us each one as we read it to you. My favourite animal-related Noah story so far has to be this:

You had just learnt what a turtle was and took great pleasure in pointing the turtle out in the book. The thing is, your real-life experience of turtles is very small so the concept of what a turtle is only really exists in your own beautiful imagination. Imagine the delight, then, when you were out digging up mud in the garden with Mummy when you unearthed a nest of woodlice. You became very excited, stood up from your squatting position, pointed with both index fingers and said, "TURTLES! TURTLES!"

Hilarious.

Here are some wonderful pictures your Mummy took when you were at the zoo. 

Where has Noah been?

It's been your first world cup and by golly have you taken it badly. As you know, England didn't even make it out of the group stages. We notched up just one point in the three games, losing to Italy and Uruguay before getting a woeful draw against Costa Rica. Nightmare.

Despite your emotional requests, we wouldn't allow you to have a pint of beer. Instead, we gave you some cordial. You insisted on drinking it, 'Like a 64 year old alcoholic man with nothing left to live for.'

You're quite an emotional boy.

Best. Video. Ever.

Mummy has made the best video in the world, with recordings of you saying things. It starts off with family members and soon turns slightly surreal. 

Noah genuinely started quoting Die Hard today. We were playing about and reading then he just said: 'HAAAAAAAAAAANNNNSSSS!'

Brilliant.

http://voice.adobe.com/v/AtcVWLsTGYh

"Painting"

Emma who looks after you at nursery handed me this pile of dog turd on Thursday when I picked you up. You were pissing about in the sand or something. I asked you why you are so inept at art but you couldn't or wouldn't give me an honest answer. All you said was: "Painting. Painting."

"If you want to call it that." I said, with a roll of my eyes as I punched your work into your Spiderman backpack.

"Noah, why do you hate us?" Asked Mummy when I showed her what you did.

We took this picture of it before spitting all over it and putting it in the black bin (we wanted to ensure that it went into landfill; it didn't even deserve going into the the blue, reclycling bins.)

Self awareness.

"That means he's cleverer than a dog now, doesn't it?" Said Mummy. She was talking about the fact that you had just shown your first true sign of self-awareness. Now, when we usually show you a photograph of yourself and ask you who it is, you usually reply in the third person, saying: "Noah."

But today, something remarkable happened. We showed you the picture, asked you the question and in response, you put your hand on your chest and said: "Me!" We hadn't taught you that, Noah! You just picked it up somehow. 

So we grabbed the camera and got you to do it again.

What a boy!

You're like fucking HAL.

Dinner, ball-pit, canal boats, driving, bed

What a day.

You even fed a baby swan breaded scampi.

You're in the (nursery) news again

'Here we go!' I thought, when your mum text me to say you'd made the nursery news page. 'They've finally realised your utter genius and got you to solve a Rubik's cube or something.'

Turns out they just used a picture of you painting. 

What a beautiful boy.

Daddy's 30th birthday

This month saw the day that Daddy turned 30. The turning 30 part itself was really quite painless. Mummy had spent ages and ages organising a surprise party! She'd somehow managed to keep it entirely to herself (causing huge amounts of stress at different times leading up to the event). We had arranged to go out for a meal in town and have a few drinks afterwards. You were staying at Great Grandma's with Alex and Charisse. 

Anyway, after eating a huge meal and having a number of quite big drinks, your Mummy and I stumbled into The Exchange bar in town. YOU were there! Along with loads of Daddy's friends and your family. It was a fantastic night. Lots of people bought Daddy lots of drinks.

The next day, I thought I was going to die. I didn't do a very good job of looking after you. I kicked Adelaide in the right temple. She sprawled on the floor. 

Ducks

As well as duds, you also love ducks. I mean, love ducks. Even then, you love pigeons. Your grandma and grandad love taking you to feed the ducks.

Dud

When it rains, all of the duds come out. They go all over the patio and leaves and things. You spotted a dud and wanted us to know about it.

Changing cat

You always look after Cat. Here you changed his heavily soiled nappy. 

Me and my dad

At the minute, you're being a real daddy's boy. It's one of those unfortunate things because your mummy does all of the heavy groundwork, taking care of you on her days off while I'm at work. Then, when works done, I swoop in and take all of the glory off of poor mummy. A couple of weeks ago, you started saying, "Go away, mummy," when I'm holding you after work. If your mummy gets within a metre radius whilst I'm holding you, you get genuinely upset about it and angrily tell mummy to go away.

It makes mummy feel really special. 

It also explains why your favourite book at the minute is called, "Me and My Dad." It's a first person reflection on all the reasons why this baby bear loves spending time with Daddy Bear. The opening line is:

"My Daddy wakes me up/

In the morning like this/

He tickles my nose/

And gives me a kiss."

As the book continues, it explains how the mummy had suffered some sort of mental breakdown due to heavy drink and drug abuse. It talks about her battle in the court system to try and retain custody of the baby and subsequent loss. There's a chapter dedicated to the mummy sleeping through christmas after a tragic relapse on christmas eve.

It's a great book.