Blimey how time flies. My Louis was fifteen yesterday. I didn't see him on his birthday. He was happy when we spoke and blissfully unaware that there might be sometimes sadness associated with the co-parenting shenanigans. As there's not a chance in a million that he's going to read my blog because it's super uncool he's thankfully going to stay that way. We're celebrating together tonight instead, a joint one as it's my birthday in a couple of days. I'm taking him to the place locally which serves 'the best pizzas in the world'. A gastronomic recommendation indeed from the mouth of a teenager.
I was taken back to my son's first hours on this earth yesterday. He showed me that babies have unique personalities from the outset. I was told to swaddle him, wrapping a la mode of the baby Jesus in the manager. The midwives said it would be comforting. Lou was having none of it. He fought his way out of his tightly wrapped blankie time and time again. I was told afterwards that it might be one of the reasons why his joints are hypermobile as he wasn't given the proprioceptive feedback that tight wrapping provides. I don't beat myself up about it.