Max is, that’s who.
Yesterday, at the grand old age of 15 weeks old, Max laughed for the first time. It was the best sound I’ve ever heard and I almost burst with love and excitement when he did it, which took me completely by surprise.
He’s been showing off his cheeky smile for ages now, and we’ve had plenty of silent laughs accompanied by the odd squeak, but never a laugh, not even a giggle.
Then after a day of crankiness (teething, bit of a cold, got out of bed the wrong side, I’m not sure which one) and after I’d cleaned up an explosive poo, I tickled his tummy expecting a stony face to stare me out, but instead got a grin and a laugh. A proper full, more than once, ha-ha-ha LAUGH. More than once, until belly tickles became boring again.
I didn’t realise until that moment that there was a sound that had been missing from my life, and now I’m desperate to hear it again. Best sound ever.
Since having Max I’ve written quite a bit about the trials and tribulations of having a new baby. It’s only fair that I celebrate the overwhelming positive points too – and believe me Mamas-to-be, there are plenty – and this laugh was right up there.
Selfishly, I’m really happy that I, Max’s Mum, was granted the exclusive preview to his first laugh. Not Grandad, not his favourite rattle toy, not even Daddy, but me. Don’t get me wrong I’d have been over the moon for his Daddy if he’d witnessed it first, and even better if we’d been there together, but if only one of us could prompt this special ‘first’, I’m glad it was me. It felt like a reward for giving my life to him for the past 15 weeks (even longer if you include pregnancy) and if I’m unlucky enough to miss out on the rest of his baby firsts at least I’ll always know that I was the first person in his life to make him laugh.
Now I can just sit back and smile as his Daddy desperately tries every trick in the book to make him laugh again.