I am nearly tree, ‘ears ago

So it is the eve of R’s 3rd birthday.  It seems impossible not to feel a little nostalgic; this time 3 years ago I was…oh yes, in agony, out of my tree on entonox giving birth to a head the size of a watermelon, surviving on lucozade sport and jelly babies.   But after all that, I did enjoy the best beef and horseradish sandwich, chez NHS. And obviously had a beautiful baby boy to look at.  Tonight, after the 5th story, a few rounds of wim a weh (?!spelling) and a chat about chewing gum (which you can’t have until you’re five) you are asleep.  Today I had to explain to you that sometimes people will exclude you from their games, and you must try and ignore it. A little part of me ached at the thought of anyone hurting you, but my heart burst when I watched you handle it with grace and wisdom way beyond your years..  I cursed myself at buying you that FAB lolly in the middle of winter right before nap time. I applauded you as you put your own socks on and went for a pee “all by self.” You, in return clapped me when I successfully reversed DADDYS car into the drive.  You told me “when me bigger, me drive, you go smaller and sit in car seat.” I know you won’t care that the confetti balloons are a bit s#@ (life skill to fill these!) or the Peppa and George biscuits look like they are on speed.  You will never know that I’m already on version 2.0 of your “red strawberry cake” after the first one made at 2.30am with a baby strapped to me by the light of the extractor fan could have broken windows.  It’s not about over achieving parenthood (my standards have never been so low) but more because I want you to know that I see you, and I hear you.  I want to like what you like and get giddy about the mundane day to day.  Tonight you cuddled your little brother so tightly, and a look of awe and admiration spread all over his face.  You, R, are officially a dude. My dude.  And I cannot wait to watch you grow.  (And fly up sky to the moon in daddies rocket, as per your wish) xx