My baby is officially two.
It feels like yesterday that we brought him home from hospital, all squishy and small. So tiny he fit into our arms, on a pillow and little miss still ran the house. Now, he is full of beans, talking, comes up to my hip and loves to torment his sister.
Where did the time go?
We didn’t really do much for his birthday (again much to my sadness) as he was at school and everyone was at work. We did go for a train ride today though on the local steam train. His face … best feeling ever when you see that sort of excitement on your child’s face. He was so excited (because he, like most boys, are obsessed with Thomas the Tank) and had his head out the window most of the time. Last time we went on the train, he was 8 months old, maybe more. He couldn’t walk, couldn’t talk and didn’t know what the hell was happening. Now, my little baby is a big boy and my heart is breaking.
I miss my little squishy who couldn’t tell me no if he didn’t want cuddles and who wasn’t strong enough to push me away. He still gives cuddles don’t get me wrong but I just miss the newborn squishy hugs. And I miss the fact that he relied on me for everything. Now he is little mister independent. Although, there is something that comes from growing up. The personality develops. And boy, does he have personality.
I was incredibly lucky to be blessed with two kids who dominate personality trait is fun. Don’t get me wrong, stubbornness, cheekiness, smart ass-ness and loudness is also there, but the sense of fun … finding the adventure … is stronger. Which is great until you witness your little baby boy kamikazeing off the back of the couch just to see if he can bounce or your daughter deciding that squeezing herself into small spaces is fun until she gets stuck and mum is too big to help. Mischief is also a strong personality trait. It glows in their smiles and twinkles in their eyes. You just know they are up to something. I never know whether to laugh or cry. I am always frightened though … they inherited my smarts after all.
That’s the other thing too now that my baby is older. He and his sister get along better … most days. It means that she has someone to blame and dob on which, coming from an older sister, is the ultimate power. She also has someone to be the first mate on her pirate ship or pilot in her space ship or the alien she must track down. He is also her shadow and biggest fan.
Watching those two trouble makers both scares me and warms my heart. I can hear them now … I can always hear them … pretending to play trains. Give it a minute and the screaming will ensue but right now … it’s a beautiful thing. I don’t like my children growing up. It means that the day they won’t need me draws closer but I also find myself thinking of the future and who they will end up being. If they are happy and maintain the same personality traits in regards to never losing their fun and adventurous streak, I will be happy.
Happy birthday my little man. Stay young, free and seeking adventure for as long as possible and never, ever forget that I am proud of you and love you more than words can say.