My little boy is thirteen months old today. He is still smiling for England (I would enter him in the London Olympics but I’m not certain we’ll get tickets for that event). Today he took three steps. In my absence. On the carpet my mother bought for the purpose. That’ll teach me. Soft thick carpet is officially nicer for learning to walk on.
It turns out he doesn’t do encores. Shame. However, previous experience (with Child One) taught me that walking does happen repeatedly after the first steps, and even gets less exciting the more they do it, so I am sure there will be a chance for me to witness the act myself. Perhaps soon. We’ll see.
Not only is he a social charmer, but he has learnt to escape from a room full of educational toys, open a door, climb a two step stool in the dark and turn on a hot tap in under 20 seconds. Thankfully, the hot tap did not reach scalding point before I found him (or cause us to call in more tax favours with A&E). But now I have to lock the cloakroom door from the outside. And explain to Lily what that is all about.
I think he likes climbing. Not something Lily ever got excited about really. She is a little scared of heights. Joseph however will no doubt charm his way into a Rather Good School and then get sent down for planking or extreme ironing on the roof. He will still succeed however. He has the most delicious smile.