O quam cito transit gloria mundi

Good things come to those who wait. I'm not sure whether this is an ancient proverb or an advertising slogan (and frankly what is the difference any more) but regardless Bertie must be about to receive the very best of things given how long her wait has been. As babies born in her wake escalate from sitting to crawling to walking, the Noodlebean resolves not to move in anything other than a perfunctory manner. And while her erratic progress across the floor continues - the shift to a mere crawl let alone fully fledged perambulation seems impossible to imagine. In fact it haunts my dreams.

While her locomotive development dawdles everything else steams forward with irresistible momentum - humanity seeps into her like jam into a doughnut. Her favourite of all things are ducks, namely the three Chelsea ducks (which are technically mine but I'll leave that for now) which she delights in passing to me and then having them passed back. This results in what the Dansk wing would call a "vanvittige fjollet lille fugl dans" (or triffid dance ) - but what can more accurately be described as manically waving both arms like a nutcase whilst grinning and gurning like a sausage. Bravo Beano. 

And although not yet perfected, by the time this goes blurts onto the net her appreciation and effective deployment of the wave will have improved beyond all recognition. At the height of her mental acuity she can manage a perfect royal wave when given appropriate encouragement which at present consists of both parentals engaging in a perfectly timed Mexican wave for 45 minutes. But it is worth it.

She has also developed something that can only be described as a breast attack; performed when her desire for breast milk can no longer be contained and regard for own head is forgotten. It is, in short, a form of baby blitzkrieg. The video below is from the frontline of this eternal battle 'twixt mother and babe but this tactic can often be highly effective. It also provides further documentary evidence of her cheeks attaining an almost platonic level of rud.

How does she do it? Answers on a postcard to the usual address.

Oh and for those keeping count there are two monikers to add to the ever expanding list - this time coming from the mater not the pater - NooNoo (which veers a little to close to being the name of a teletubby or a kindred beast) and the aforementioned Noodlebean. And occasionally I call her steamed pudding but only when she is especially lekker.

Longbertie. As tall as the highest jump recorded by a pig.

The Hat of Hats.

Snug.

I told you not to photograph me sucking on the edge of this trunk. Now, I gonna give you one hell of whupping.

Yeah baby, yeah.

Bertrand, have you been at the scotch? It rather looks like you have.