Dear Frankie, Month 11

Dear Frankie,

I know, I know, late again, but…

Daddy got a new job. This does mean that I’ll be away for weeks on end though which quite frankly “quite Frankie”, is not so cool. I would love to put you in my hand luggage with your head poking out the top and take you away with me to these places, but alas – I am not looking forward to leaving you behind one jot.

Height: 76.5cms
Weight: 10.1kg – avid readers will notice a dent that this month’s stats have put in your growth graph. You actually lost 0.4kg this month. Careless. More food heading around your chops than in them?


The injuries continue – scratches on the back, bruise on the cheek, cut on the finger, grazes on the foot. Keep it together girl!

We’ve both noticed that when we’re holding you, walking or just standing, you seem to adopt this additional chunk of confidence, even an air of authority about you. You’re confident as it is, but there’s a recognisable extra bit of ‘king of the castle’ about you when you’re being held and surveying all around you.

Ed and Amber got engaged. Woohoo, well done them. Wrong order of doing these things surely but hey-ho, each to their own.

A great game you’ve come up with is to sit precariously on the step that leads outside to the terrace, and then throw your body on to the bean bag next to you. You’ll land then look around for Mummy or me to enjoy the moment with. We’ll smile and clap, encouraging any type of derring-do and tomfoolery. This needs to develop into a desire to skydive.


The most common sound you make is a bit weird. It sounds something like an impression of a coffee percolator from that TV advert a la 1987, only as a one or two second burst and it’s normally accompanied by the pointing finger(s). Do explain this to us one day.

My favourite vocal that you perform goes something like: “ahuahahuah”. This could well be a result of spending your first year in east London as it’s fairly siren-like. For entertainment value, I’ll go “ahuahahuah” to which you’ll reply “ahuahahuah”, then you look at me, I clap and you casually return to whatever it is I disturbed you from doing. In a similar way, sometimes when you snuggling down in a semi-comatose state, you’ll go “mmmm”, I’ll reply “mmmm”, you’ll reply “mmmm” etc. This can go on for about 20 replies back and forth. You will always be the one to finish it though.

You’ve also taken to saying “ahhh” at the same time as flapping your tongue back and forth, giving that rather infantile “blah blah blah” sound. I mostly try and grab your tongue as you do it.


There’s this thing you do which Nana first noticed when holding you and counting out your formula milk scoops. I’ll go “1,2,3,4,5…” and roughly by the time I get to 6, you’ve cocked your head round as much as possible so that you’re looking me, about four inches away from my face. It’s hilarious. So now we come up with various things that happen to need counting in order for you to perform this trick again for us. Yes, you are our toy.

You know what “No” means but very independently choose when to actually pay attention to its meaning. You’ll normally acknowledge our saying “No” with a vigorous head shaking action, then mostly carry on as you were. Still working on the nodding “Yes”.

It’s now become quite a regular gig of yours to wake briefly in the wee small hours. I’ll come and grab you, inhale a lungful or two of your sleepiness and bring you into bed with us. You’ll quickly and very easily return to the strangest version of slumber I’ve seen: It’s sleep, only you feel the need to align your body horizontally on the bed pushing us to each edge. Whoever is the lucky recipient of the feet (the FTSE 100s) will for a short while be repeatedly pushed against and if lucky, kick off one of your minor body convulsing tantrums. Quite often Mummy and I will look at each other in what little light there is and again try to stifle our laughing AT YOU. Crikey me, even when you’re being an arse you’re cute.

We’re about to move out of Bow and over to Maidenhead, we’re not particularly looking forward to leaving but it’s an opportunity we’d be silly not to take up. Granny and Grandpa will soon be heading south to their African winter retreat and the flat in Bow is being let out. All change please, all change.

Loving you,

Daddy x


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