Harry is now 8 months old (well and a week but I was busy).
Where the time has gone I just don’t know, however I appear to have blinked and missed some of it.
I only realised how much he had grown the other day when I tried to squeeze him into a 3-6 month sleep suit, well that wasn’t going to happen and I ended up cutting off the feet to make it fit.
That made me sad.
I’m pretty sure he will be my last baby and I want to hold him close forever, keep him small and cherish every moment.
I have just today sorted through Harry’s wardrobe and bagged up all of the clothes which no longer fit. It’s sad to see the bags of clothes, all small and cute which will probably never be used again in this house.
Harry is now wearing aged 9 – 12 month clothes and some 12 – 18 months. He has the hugest fattest feet and I really struggle to get shoes to fit him, all the 6 – 12 month ones don’t fit as his ankles are too big.
He sits up beautifully now and no longer wobbles
He hates sitting in his play ring and keeps trying to escape
He hates lying on his back
Equally he hates being on his stomach
He loves to jump and his favourite toy is his Jumperoo still
He can perfectly steer his walker and races around the kitchen, explores the cupboards, loves to run us over and empty Emily’s crayons and papers off of her chalk board
He devours any food given too him as long as he can feed himself, he hates to be spoon fed
He kisses and cuddles everyone – he is so affectionate
He is trying very hard to walk, he pulls himself up on the furniture and walks holding our hands
He has still never slept through the night and wakes at least twice a night