Three

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I didn’t mean to stop writing here it just sort of happened. And then every time I think about starting, I think – but how will I say everything? So I say nothing. Today I will say something.

Felix turned three a couple of weeks ago and he is thrilled about it. He counted down the sleeps to his party. The next day, he said hopefully – it’s still my birthday? No, we said. First it’s Daddy’s birthday, then it’s Mummy’s birthday, then it’s Christmas, then it’s Felix’s birthday again. He seemed happy with that and recites it back to us sometimes. But, he said, I’m still three?

And I’ve been meaning to write about what he’s like at this age for months and months and I always think I won’t do it justice. But here is one small thing. He is startlingly good at adjectives, adverbs, and metaphors, which warms his mother’s heart. In Australia he was tipping sand off my parents deck, reeling off so many descriptions that I can’t recall them. Tumbling, floating, twinkling… The other night we were looking at a picture of a combine harvester and he was looking at the grain coming out of the spout. Like a shower! He said. Like a waterfall!

He also loves maps, which he didn’t get from me as I have no sense of direction. We discovered this half a year ago in Austria when in no time at all he was able to point out the river and the town on the map. Michael spent some time with him on the weekend showing him Norway and Germany and Britain and Switzerland, as Michael is in Switzerland this week. Then he showed him the road to the barnehage, pointing out the points of interest on the way. As we drove there a couple of days ago, Felix said – there’s the cranes! Like on the map!

He really is generally pretty adorable, with of course bouts of small-person attitude thrown in. He was getting bored with stirring his porridge the other morning (I’d added too much milk so it was taking a while). If you’ve had enough, I said, you can go and play. I’d be delighted to have enough, he announced, and climbed down from his chair.

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