My best boy.
Lights up our world like a Christmas tree.
He is the shiniest star on our horizon and a compass for us to navigate towards.
The devil is in the detail and our wait for him now seems a distant memory. It’s as if he’s always been here at the forefront of our lives and we were just treading water in between.
So what’s my favourite part of the story? Where he squeezed my hand and smiled within the first 3 minutes of meeting him? Or the first time he fell asleep in my arms? Or, or, or – the list is endless (as it should be ) so instead I have been perusing on the bits that drive me mad. Treading on Lego in bare feet ( ouch) realising there are no wipes and you know you need plenty. And also realising that you really shouldn’t leave the house without wipes at all. The smart cookie element that points out I am attempting to cross the road when the green man is clearly NOT illuminated. The niggly bit where you hear yourself sounding like your parents ( that you swore you would never resemble) so this is the truth. The cats are not loved, brushed or played with half as much. Yet they are terrorised, tailed pulled and pushed through the cat flap backwards double the amount. I don’t always get to change our bed or finish the ironing. But our boy’s room is immaculate, toys ready for a hard day’s play every morning and a true connoisseur of Annabel Karmel. Now, I have got smarter on choosing the battles, winning the wars and always hear a ‘love you’ as he turns over to snuggle up to blue bunny at night.
Having our boy has given us consistency, forgiveness and a toughness that you never would have believed possible before crossing the threshold of parenting. The tolerance of ‘I have no idea what that is on my collar’ epiphany. Fronting out a stray nappy moment on the busy 73 bus and just looking the other way. I no longer deliberate on whether it’s acceptable to change into our pyjamas at 4pm so we can get cozy under a blanket and read stories whilst the evenings draw in. Our boy loves, teas on knees, being given his milk (this is called lamby in the trade) in our arms and lying down together and infers constantly ‘we are family’ because in his eyes we are together, so we are family.
The beauty of my life, of our world has been turned inside out and is without a doubt AWESOME. He makes me feel 10 feet tall and I can only hope and dream how he is going to feel when he falls in love and shares his awesomeness as he shares it with us.
