Sunday 14th June 2009

There's no great order to the variety of pictures on display today, each being merely representative of Luca's moods and locations at various junctures yesterday. The first, featured above, was taken as Luca helped me relocate my PC from my "cubby hole" back to the loft. With the recent sharp increase in temperatures it is again quite comfortable up there, and the extra space (which alleviates the need to be permanently hunched) is doing wonders for my lanky - and ageing - back.



I hope that last sentence bemoaning my age didn't depress you too much. I am (pleasingly) aware that, behind Kelly, I'm the youngest contributor/savant of our collective blogs. OK, behind you too Cade......
Our next picture features Luca at tea time (notice the can of his favourite "beanies and sausages" at his feet). As previous experience would suggest, with Luca not being the boldest toddler to have walked the earth, he isn't fully confident standing solo atop a kitchen worktop as demonstrated. The smile was most certainly staged and exceedingly brief - "Daddy no go away, come here now, pick Luca up"



This one is just a Dad's eye view, but look closer at his eyes - this was taken only seconds before an infamous "Stewart Strop"

I've just realised I haven't yet mentioned the reason behind the lack of trousers in many of these shots! We haven't secretly moved to the Bahama's, Luca is presently being - very successfully - potty trained. The speed at which he's picked it up is incredible, and he hasn't once forgotten to sit on his potty. All credit to Carole (and Granny too). The only negative being that this is another milestone, another reminder that he's not our baby anymore but independent, free thinking young boy. We're now at the stage where we no longer need to guess at what he wants/needs, he very concisely tells us. This obviously makes our lives so much easier, yet I can't shake the feeling that each breakthrough is actually a new impasse in my attempts to keep him as my dependant baby indefinitely. I could psychologise this issue, and turn it into a lengthy diatribe about human responsibilities and mortality.

But I won't. Because it's not. It's about loving him unreservedly as he is.

And how can you not when eyes like that stare into you? Before striking quicker than a startled cobra to remove the camera from your grasp. He's very patient with the camera at present, but has set his own limits and demonstrates these physically rather than verbally!

Our final picture of the day shows a modest Luca covering his dignity (certainly a more pleasant vision than when he does his pelvic thrusts bereft of bottom half covering) in the loft. The grabbing of his genitals, Michael Jackson circa 1988 sylee, is an automatic reaction he has acquired as a response to any frights or fear. The green box in front of him is a jack-in-the-box, and is an item of which holds equal fascination and fear for him. He can't help pressing that button, which scares him EVERY time....

**Useless fact of the day - A theory as to the origin of the jack-in-the-box is that it comes from the 13th century English prelate Sir John Schorne, who is often pictured holding a boot with a devil in it. According to folklore, he once cast the devil into a boot to protect the village of North Marston in Buckinghamshire. This theory may explain why in French, a jack-in-the-box is called a "diable en boîte" (literally "boxed devil")**