Crawling, but not as we know it

Sitting up has given me a splendid new perspective on life. Rather than stare at the ceiling all day long, I can now look about me and see what's what. And when there's not much about I can watch my toes and yank off my socks - the most fun a boy can have.

But one step at a time. I've got little interest in moving anywhere: I just don't see the appeal in this 'crawling' thing. If a toy is out of reach I make a half-hearted lunge for it before making a frustrated growl and it's brought to me!

However, over the past few weeks I've been learning a different type of crawl. Every Thursday Mummy takes me to Teddington Pool for swimming lessons. I splish, splash and kick my legs around with the other water babies. I chase a ball by kicking my legs really hard and Mummy even dunks me, which is very trying if I'm honest.

Today was my last lesson and as a test I had to hold on to the rail and bob about the place all on my own. It was fun for a second or two, before I got bored and let go. So today, the most important lesson I learned was that little boys with porky bellies don't float.

AMK