I like Ox. And I like to sleep with a tea-towel over my gimongous head.
I don’t like keeping my socks on. Ever.

Food. Wow, I like food. Any food. Now please. Any hint of ‘food’ illicits a deep and abiding, “oooooh!” followed by a baby stampede.
I don’t like food with random lumps in it.

I like my highchair (cause that’s where I get the most food).
I don’t like being taken out of my highchair if I have not had enough of the aforementioned.

I like anything with wheels. Anything noisy and anything your currently holding.
I don’t like you getting in my way.

I like it when my brother is at kinder.
I don’t like it when we take him to kinder but then leave without him.

I like the wholemeal CheesyMite rolls from Bakers Delight in Clifton Hill. I can eat a whole one!
I don’t like cake.

I like my bike and my trucks. They’re noisy and fun and I can pull them apart. I like to dance with ALL my rhythm. (Like my brother, Play That Funky Music, White Boy)

I love my brother, he’s funny. I like baths, they’re splashy! And I like my to hold my own bottle while I watch PlaySchool before bed.

Mostly, I love it when my Daddy comes home. I throw my arms up and say, “Yay!”
And did I mention my distaste for the white fluffy stuff? Oooh that stuff sucks.

Here’s my brother’s stats from roughly the same age. We’re pretty close on milestones. I’m bigger, taller, louder and my head is waaaay more humongous! Granted, Spike was more verbal and social. But we both have curls to die for and smiles that stop traffic. We’re good at routines and both excellent at unarmed combat.

Mum hates a list of thing but what’s she gonna do about it? I’m 16 months old fercrissakes!

Mo (as dictated to the parental unit) xo

It’s the tongue out series.

Boys! They’re perfect!

*raspberry*

Mumma xxoo

Finally, he’s off and running. Morrison sure took his sweet time and it was bliss! Now, nothing is safe from sticky, grabby fingers. He’s also very good at stairs. But that’s a story for another day.

lotsa love,

Mo’s Spotter xx

Luckily, i needed a tissue. Bingo! Someone was there to help.

The cheeky minx is going from strength to strength. He CAN walk, he just THINKS he needs to hang on to something, which is fine by us – whatever will keep him from destroying all those things which ARE in arms reach, if you’re standing. He’s got plenty of time to discover his true destructive potential.

Mo’s Mum xx

Go Morrison, Go!

Mumma xo

2 days old, with Ox

1 year old, with Ox

You’ve cemented your position as Best Replacement Baby Ever, with ease. You’ve completed our little family.

Happy birthday Morrison Flynn. We couldn’t love you more if you were stuffed with money, a new job or a biiiig firetruck. We love you!

Lots of love,

Mumma, DadDad and Spike xxooxx

Morrison and Ox, 11 months.

I did it myyyyyyyyy waaaaaaaaaaay!

That will be his anthem. Crawling, in the traditional sense has been replaced by much more hilarious side bum scoot-crawl method. Much like his mother did! Fast? You betcha sweet breakable things within arms reach he is!

Everyone comments, what a happy, content little boy. And, they’d be right. He is. Happy. Content. Why wouldn’t he be? His every whim is catered to, every day! I’d be friggen happy and content too! In fact, let’s try it. I’ll wait…

STATS

Cruising the 11kg (22lbs) mark and stretching out to around 76cm (30″) tall.  Still perusing the adult section at the milliners and getting towards that end for shoes.  Can we say, ‘clod hopppers’? Mo’s finally growing those curls his brother brandishes so wildly and his hair IS lightening up a smidge. He’s got too many teeth to count so just be warned, don’t put yer fingers in his mouth to retrieve your car keys. And because he won’t crawl, in the conventional sense he does spend a  lot of time landing on each side of his massive forehead as he takes a fast corner. It seems he is permanently sporting two bruises, either side of his face in various stages of grey/yellow/black. It’s quite festive!

And just cause I love it, here’s a pic of Mo being held by Papa. Rumour has it, they are the same species!

Here’s his brothers page, at the same age. Mo weighs more but they’re about the same height. Spike was more mobile but Mo is louder! And as you can see, both so cute as to relegate any other children to the retarded lumps category. I know it may seem unfair (to other retarded lumps) but I’m just here to report the facts, Ma’am.

Now that big brother, Spike goes to kinder two mornings a week, Mo and I get some alone time. It’s so much fun – especially if I can get him down to nap – just me and the mini demolition derby in a nappy. I could smooosh his perfect, round face into a million pieces.

He still loves Ox (seen above) and is sure to gnaw Mr Cullen’s (giraffe – his only two eyed toy!) antlers off, any day now.  Stanhope (his myopic, three ‘legged’ mini ugly doll) also gets a good sucking.  He loves anything that makes a noise and is adept at making anything, make noise.  I reckon he could raise a din with a bag of cotton balls.

This be his latest trick. Overnight he’s decided he loves to stand up and move.  It wont be long… won’t be long til I can send him to the shops to buy me a bottle or two of wine.  You’ll see. (and yes, his father called him, “Spike”. We ALL call him Spike at least once a day.)

Mo’s Mumma xxxo

Mo and Ox, ten months.

Mo’s outgrown the Jumperoo! It’s more like a baby catapult at this point, so he’s graduated to the Sesame Street Walker or Sesame Street Tank and Combination Snow Plow. True, we are bereft of snow here in Melbourne, so let’s call it a Furniture Plow. A Family Plow. A HIgh Performance Demolition Ball! We are a unit of skinned toes and banged-up shins. He calls me, “Bruisy”.

When he’s not ‘confined’ by Australian Safety Standard meeting plastic, he’s on the floor tearing around on his Lazy Susan belly and commando elbows and toes. He’s fast. Loud and fast! Having recently discovered the reflective kick plate of the oven he usually bee lines for the kitchen to talk to himself. Unfortunately the oven has a hidden shelf that is opened by kicking it in the right spot, or it seems, by talking to yourself so enthusiastically that a baby high five will eventually reveal the dusty inner sanctum. And as a note for those playing at home – the wild gesticulator does NOT like being taken away from this discovery.

STATS

Having been given the All Clear by Dr Patrick Lo at RCH, “he’s just got a massive head… like your husband.” Mo just gets bigger, heavier and longer. Up over 11kgs (22lbs), around 74cm (29″) and look, let’s just forget about measuring his head ok? His brother’s 2yr old hats don’t fit him… the kid’s ALL noggin!

He’s discovered food and thinks it’s A-Ok. He’ll eat an interesting array of different things, kilos of mashed spud, pumpkin and vegemite. Raw beans, cruskits, also by the kilo and the meat out of Daddy’s Vietnamese rice paper roll. Loves yoghurt, weetbix and pureed fruit and the other day had his first ice cream in a cone. HILARIOUS!

He really is a joyous little booger.  Turns himself inside out when he sees Daddy come home from work. Will try to shake himself loose from your grip when he sees Nana and has a similar reaction to a full bath/pool!  I guess he’ll start cruising the furniture next and then, walking. I’m in NO hurry. You stay a baby a little longer thanks, Mr Big Noise.  Oh and please continue to sleep through the night!!

Mo’s Mumma xxxx

Mo and Ox, 9 months.

Life is pretty good in Mo World. Don’t be fooled by the above photo, he’s not exactly doing a walk-a-thon (although, if he does hit you up – per lap – it’s a pretty good proposition) but he is straining those drumsticks of his into holding his bulk.  Still not crawling either but has a roll/commando-typ crawl under control.  Suffice to say, the warehouse is being razed little by little.  You know, until he is in his walker – then it’s Demolition Derby time.  Holy crap, it is ever!

I got a funny email from my cousin a couple of weeks back.  She says (of her 12mth old bruiser of a child) “just as you planned, Bobby has smashed the 12 month old plasma screen with the maracas his favourite cousin got him for his birthday.” And we laaaaughed! First up, the maracas were for his sister, Edie, the pink father boa was for Bob.  Secondly, our new plamsa screen is at optimum baby smashing height too!  Good lord!  Morrison is going to have to live with Bob and Edie!!

I’m gonna miss the little booger.  Hmm, maybe we could just hobble him a bit? Anyone got a paediatric block and tackle laying about?

No actual stats to report this month, I just know my ‘tendinitis’ is getting worse and my back screams at me in the morning when I try to lug him out of bed.  He loves loves loves his brother and the two have already started rough-housing.  Spike’s winning, for now. He won’t be doing himself any favours if he starts getting cocky about his win record.

Mo’s first Xmas passed by in a haze of wrapping paper and toy trains. He also scored a little ride on bike thingy that he quite likes ripping apart. Such a sweet kid. He’s all coos and 6-toothed dribbly grins.  He’s waving and saying, MumMumMum.

But I am serious about the telly.  He wrecks that and it’s off to Hidden Valley he goes…

Mo’s Mum xxxx

Eight months, with Ox.

Wow, this kid just keeps getting bigger.  Soon, you’ll be able to see him from the moon!

Here’s his brother at the same age. WAY more mobile. less teeth.  About as vocal and not far behind, size wise.

STATS
Creaking the scales at an impressive 9690gms (21.3lbs) stretching to 71cm long (28″) & new enormo head measurement of 50cm! (19.6″)  Way way WAY off the charts… (here’s hoping he’s following his own trajectory!)

All bar a bad night, he’s still sleeping through the night (bless ‘im) loves hanging out in the high chair, banging his gavel and demanding more rusks to strip. Still not real fussed about solid food – except yoghurt and pumpkin. Not together, although we could try that! He is in love with his giraffe, who finally has a name, Mr. Cullen because Sean Cullen has been amusing us ALL with his tweets.  What a Canadian nutbag! And Ox, of course. He sleeps with Ox wedged under his belly (so he can’t roll on his face!) and he loves loves loves Spike’s old Pig which lives at Nana’s. He squeals when he sees it and crams it snout in his mouth. We pretend not to notice…

He’s rolling around everywhere. Gets caught under the coffee table or up agains the couch. Is pretty much sitting up on his own now, still has a tendency to launch himself backwards/forwards/sideways without a moments notice so he is mostly surrounded by bolsters or one of us. Has started having very emphatic conversations, lots of shaking fists and LOUD ooooo noises! You’d best pay attention.

Morrison had his first Thanksgiving – he eyed off the turkey leg bone like it was some kind of prize – and enjoyed some pumpkin. And now we’re gearing up for his first Xmas, he couldn’t care less!  He just remains as cute as pair of Vivienne Westwood boots, as loud as an air raid siren and completely ours.

Mo’s Mumma, Daddy and big brother, Spike  xxoo