You know, it's not easy being a ten-month-old. Samuel's completely aware of the world around him, but he can't really understand how it works yet.
There are so many questions. Why does the cat (his favourite thing in the world) run away from him whenever he barrels towards her at breakneck speed? Why isn't he allowed to be left to chew on his high chair table in peace? Why does he have to wait his turn to pick a maraca out of a box at a baby class if he wants one NOW? And who is that other mummy in the mirror? The one who is always picking bits of rice cake out of her hair. The one who, while bending down to help him put his jacket on this morning, may have accidentally activated the pump dispenser of his eczema cream with her arse. And may have created quite a mess. Anyway.
He's a bundle of contradictions at this age too. He's both sweet and what might euphemistically be described as spirited (take a toy off him at your peril). He's not a bit shy but he's extremely clingy. He can't sit still for a moment but he can't really go anywhere on his own yet either.
Life seems like one big emotional roller coaster for Samuel these days and pretty much all of his crying comes down to the frustration of not being independently mobile. He's SO close to crawling. And SO close to walking on his own. In the meantime he just reaches out for my hands, pulls himself up, and off we go ... quickly!
He loves cruising around on the furniture. He loves the baby swings at the park. He loves his books and while most children his age develop an emotional attachment to a cuddly toy, he has done the same to a book about animals. He loves to laugh and has already developed a sense of humour as complex as nuanced as my own; one of us will burp and we will both giggle about it for ages.
But I think my absolute favourite recent development is that Samuel has learned how to hug. That once squirmy little wriggle monster will now wrap his arms around us and let us give him a bit of a squeeze. Maybe being ten-months'-old isn't so bad after all.