Happy Birthday, Marcus Briggs!

The first month with Marcus Briggs was beautiful chaos. He slept in two-hour stretches and wanted feeding constantly. His favourite spot was on Dad's chest, right over the heartbeat. Marcus would do this little snuffling thing when he was settling down that melted us every single time. We learned very quickly that this tiny person was completely in charge of the household.

Marcus Briggs discovered he could make noises other than crying. Little coos and gurgles started filling the house, and he'd have entire conversations with the ceiling fan. The social smiles arrived properly this month too — big, gummy, full-face grins that made every sleepless night worth it. He also discovered his hands, spending ages just staring at his own fingers like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

Everything within reach was going straight into Marcus Briggs' mouth. Hair, necklaces, the dog's ear, Dad's glasses — nothing was safe. His grip strength was genuinely surprising for someone so small. He started holding his head up properly during tummy time and would do these little push-ups that made him look like a tiny fitness instructor. The giggles arrived this month and they were the best sound we'd ever heard.

Marcus Briggs rolled over for the first time on a Tuesday afternoon and looked absolutely stunned by what he'd done. Then he spent the next three days doing nothing but rolling, like he'd unlocked a new skill in a video game. He also found his feet this month and spent most of June trying to get his toes in his mouth. The boy is flexible, we'll give him that. His personality really started coming through — cheeky, curious, and determined.

Marcus Briggs had his first proper summer and absolutely loved being outside. We'd put a blanket in the garden and he'd just lie there watching the trees move overhead, completely mesmerised. He started sitting up with support this month and was very unhappy about being laid down when he could be upright and watching the world instead. He also started recognising his name properly — you'd say "Marcus" and he'd whip his head round to find you.

Weaning began and Marcus Briggs had very strong opinions about food from the start. Sweet potato was an immediate favourite. Broccoli was met with a look of pure betrayal. Banana was acceptable. Avocado ended up on the walls, the floor, the dog, and somehow the ceiling. He was sitting independently by now and very proud of himself about it, spending mealtimes banging his spoon on the high chair tray like a tiny drummer.

The crawling started and life changed overnight. Marcus Briggs went from stationary to mobile in about three days and immediately set about exploring every corner of the house. Baby gates went up everywhere. He developed a particular fascination with the kitchen bin and the TV remote — both of which he could locate with the accuracy of a missile guidance system no matter where we hid them. His first tooth appeared this month too, which explained the previous week of grumpiness.

Babbling kicked into full gear and Marcus Briggs had a lot to say. "Babababa" and "mamama" were the main contributions, though whether "mama" counted as a first word is still debated in this house. He started pulling himself up on furniture and cruising along the sofa, looking very pleased with himself. His first Halloween was spent dressed as a pumpkin, looking confused but adorable. Marcus Briggs in a pumpkin costume is the single greatest photo we've ever taken.

Marcus Briggs started cruising confidently around the furniture and would let go for a second or two before grabbing on again. He learned to clap this month which became his response to absolutely everything — finished a bottle, clap. Dog walked into the room, clap. Someone sneezed, clap. His understanding of words shot up as well. He knew "no" (chose to ignore it), "more" (accompanied by excited bouncing), and "where's the dog?" (would immediately look for the dog).

Marcus Briggs experienced his first Christmas and was far more interested in the wrapping paper than any of the presents inside it. He spent Christmas morning surrounded by torn paper and ribbons, having the time of his life. The tree was a constant source of temptation — shiny baubles at baby height turned out to be a design flaw nobody warned us about. He said "dog" clearly for the first time this month, pointing at the poor long-suffering family pet who has been remarkably patient with having his ears grabbed for the past ten months.

Marcus Briggs took his first independent steps on the 9th of January. Three wobbly steps from the coffee table to Dad's outstretched hands. Then he sat down with a bump and looked at us like "well, that happened." Within a week he was managing five or six steps at a time, arms out for balance, concentration face on, absolutely determined to get wherever he was going. His vocabulary grew to include "Mum," "Dad," "dog," "more," and "no" — which he'd learned from hearing it directed at him approximately four hundred times a day.

And here we are. Marcus Briggs is one. He walks (mostly), talks (a bit), has eight teeth, strong opinions about food, a deep love for the family dog, and a laugh that fills the entire house. He waves goodbye, gives cuddles on request, and has recently added "ta" to his vocabulary, holding things out for you to take and then immediately wanting them back. He is the funniest, most stubborn, most joyful little person we've ever met. Happy birthday, Marcus Briggs. This year has been the best one of our lives.