No, it's something else that has been stealing my few and precious spare minutes each day, and you'll have to wait a little to find out what it was, I'm afraid. It's a secret new project that I'm very proud of, but it'll take a while longer to be ready for you to discover it properly.
And no, I don't have a bun in the oven. Not that type, at least.
Since we've been gone, we have taken the bambino on yet another intercontinental adventure. I really am a sucker for torture. If I have said it before, I'll say it again - the best advice when it comes to travelling with young children is: DON'T.
More constructively though, if you are travelling with a baby, don't do what I did - when the steward comes along to offer a row of four seats (the holy grail of economy class flying) in exchange for the baby bassinet, just say NO. I paid for my hubris with a baby who just would not sleep and wanted to walk up and down the row between a man coughing phlegm into a cup on one side, and huff the grumpy dragon lady on the other.
Of course it was fun in between nightmare flights, and even if eating Quality Street at 3am with a jet lagged Oscar while everyone else was asleep was frustrating, there are worse things that could happen at Christmas.
And anyway, Oscar is rather good company these days. He's stopped vomiting every time he's hungry, like a weird bird trying to feed himself, and he sits down for entire meals of grown up tastes like fish, broccoli and spinach. His orange nose does betray his preference for carrots, though...
He's over the squealing and crying of month 6 (surely the worst month so far, hopefully the worst month of those to come), and he's transformed into a bundle of cruising cuteness, discussing the finer points of "dadada" and "nanana" with me while he chews on his gums to ease the pain of teething. His giant toothless grin has given way to two tiny pearly whites at the bottom, with one trying to poke through on the top, and his endearing habit of gnawing at everything - the table, his toys, my chin - have turned into a rather painful vice.
Each day he seems to set himself a new target in the flat, skillfully avoiding the toys I set in his path to reach instead for the plugs, cables or large boxes full of the things we parents still haven't got around to tidying in the baby proofing process...
His odd Klingon salute/mini Dr Strangelove zombie arm movements have turned into full on waves when we say hello and goodbye, making me immeasurably proud.
His hand skills have also expanded to using the remote control for the TV, one of his favourite passtimes. I have spent many an hour standing next to Oscar, turning the TV off while he switches it back on. I have no idea how he knows which button to press. One day, as I took the extreme liberty of going to the bathroom for a minute, I came back to find that he had subscribed to the Fashion TV channel, which made for a very interesting conversation with my cable provider... "Yes, I promise, my seven-month-old baby boy mistakenly got through the three screens to confirm he wanted to subscribe..."
But then he laughs, and all of his mistakes and mischief seem irrelevant. He laughs when he has the hiccups, when he sneezes, when he sees hair... He's easy to please.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to pack while Oscar sleeps. On Monday we're taking the plane to Thailand. That's right, the plane. There's just no teaching some people...
