This weeks post will be a small showcase of some images from the past couple of weeks, and me explaining the reason I’m showing them off.
First, here is my son upside down.
Ned loves being upside down – I don’t know where he gets it from – I don’t particularly enjoy being upside down, and I’ve never really seen Claire upside down, so although I can’t speak for her I’m assuming she’s not a fan either. To Ned, no day is complete without a bit of ‘Upside Downing’ from his dad, and when I get home from work, I’m only happy to oblige.
Next, here is my son looking ridiculous:
And here is my son doing an impression of a thumb
I get sent about four images from my wife daily. Of those four, three of them will be of Ned looking something similar to these images. When people want to look at pictures of my son, I’m hesitant to show them my phone, because ninety percent of them are pictures of him looking like this. If anyone has children and their partner works all day, send them a few pics like this, it really changes their working mood for the better.
Here is a picture I took. Being the husband of a photographer, I rarely take any pictures of him, and the ones I do are usually at varying degrees of terrible. This one isn’t great, but has a special place in my heart because it was the first time I took him to the park on a weekend. Placing him up in this steel house, I suddenly realised I couldn’t get to him if he didn’t want me to, which Ned found hilarious. His only way of escape being a slide or some steep stairs, a waiting game ensued until Ned gave up and allowed me to recover him from his brightly painted steel kingdom.
This was sent to me today, actually. This one is a continuation of the ‘OH MY GOD HE’S BASICALLY A LITTLE BOY NOW WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN’ stage I’m currently going through. I look at that kid there, sat at a table in a little chair, with his little shoes on, and I think about the chubby little ball of baby that used to poo up his back every few hours – it’s getting harder and harder to remember that he was once very tiny, and couldn’t do things like eat a sultana, or throw a ball around the house. It’s strange, but I guess that’s what parenting generally is: Lots and lots of ‘Strange’