Today Gypsy is nineteen weeks old. Nineteen weeks is the same as four months and eleven days. Even though that doesn’t feel like a long time, at the same time it feels like a lifetime. And I suppose it’s Gypsy’s lifetime up to this point.
This week she rolled from her front onto her back for the first time. According to Google that’s at the good end of the advanced spectrum. It can be as early as four months, or as long as five to seven months. She is also getting so close to rolling from her back onto her tummy. Lucy and I cheer her on every day.
Last night she slept really well. We put her down at seven and she slept all the way through to two thirty the next morning. She had a nappy change and a bottle and then slept through until seven.
Poor Lucy and Gypsy have been stuck at home for weeks because of the Coronavirus lockdown. If you don’t know what that is then they’re not teaching it in history class. Anyway, Lucy and Gypsy hadn’t left the house other than for a walk when the weather lets them and we had to get some shopping. So they came for the ride and sat in the car while I got the food and toiletries.
Exciting stuff. Maybe I’ll write about the Coronavirus lockdown sometime.
So I know this isn’t the most exciting blog post in the world but it seemed like a good start because it’s about you and this is for you, Gypsy. At the moment it’s just you and you don’t have any brothers or sisters - and maybe you won’t when you read this - but I’m writing these collected memories for you. When my dad passed away my brother and I realised that we knew very little about him and I wanted to leave something for you. So you can look back on my life, my triumphs and my mistakes, and if they impart any wisdom that’s great but if they just give you something to do on a boring train or plane ride that’s good enough for me too.
