Boys, Part 2

Oh, Oldest is growing up so quickly. Look at him, he's grown so tall now. N and I went to an open evening this week at the local primary school. It's about that time that we started the whole process of getting Oldest into 'big-boy school' as he calls it. Until the other day, I was always picturing Oldest in Reception as a larger more structured pre-school, like he goes to now. And then when we went, and had the tour and heard the teachers give their little speeches I realised that this is it. Reception will fly by and before I know it, he'll be learning to read and bringing homework home and going on field trips. And he'll no longer be this little boy. He'll be all grown-up and off to university.



I'm not handling this passage of time very well. At Legoland recently, Oldest was measured to be over 1 metre tall and could go on some of the 'scarier' rides. And I have to keep reminding myself that this is a good thing. And exciting time. But for me, it's mostly just sad. With his birthday coming up, I can't help but remembering him as the little baby who I brought home from the hospital. The little baby that changed our lives entirely and stole my heart.



You should hear the things that come out of his mouth. Sure, he still says little boy things like 'restronk' instead of 'restaurant' and he told someone his birthday is on the 'fifty-eighth of November' but already I see flashes of the boy he'll become. A sweet and polite boy who I'm very proud of.

(by the way, this is my 1000th blog post here at Fluttering Butterflies)