Fourteen

Some kids look like themselves from the very beginning, and it's easy to spot the baby photo.  I'm not sure that's the case with the Climber, being as he was such a pudding for the first year (or so) of his life. I remember as a bubs that he was a very good sitter because of his solidness, that you could park him like a tripod with legs apart, and he would rarely topple onto the surrounding pillow barricade - in stark contrast to his little Mothers' Group friends Pea who couldn't sit unsupported to save herself (but who could roll from one end of the room to the other in the blink of an eye) or Squeaky who was a premature baby and spent a lot of our early Mothers' Group sessions catching up on her sleep.  Anyway. He hasn't been a pudding for years and years, and now he's more like a beanstalk with his long lanky limbs. His grandmother, Ma Fixit, was a little bit worried by his leanness, and offered to stand guard between me and Climber so he could raid the dessert table at family lunch and fatten up a bit.



We had a Mothers' Group celebration at Astrid's house for our January babies, Climber, Pea and Squeaky.  They are such a lovely trio.  It was funny giving them their gifts, they were all very low key and just smiled in a pleased way at their treasures. But you could see they were happy.  They're just not the excitable members of the Mothers' Group.



And then for Climber's actual birthday, he once more requested a family day, which this year involved pancakes for breakfast, the opening of the presents, a soccer clinic (only because it fell on his actual birthday, it wasn't a special treat, but it gave him the chance to try out his fancy new soccerboots), some birthday cake and then a meal out with the four of us at a restaurant, followed by artisan gelati at a posh gelateria.



So here he is, our firstborn, our beautiful golden boy. Lighting up our life and making us happy since we welcomed him to the world.  Funny, dreamy, kind, vague, sensitive, distractable, musical, athletic, clever, strong. Likes gymnastics, baking, soccer and computer stuff. Enjoys his friends' company but oddly insecure about his own popularity. And tall now. Much taller than me...



...and eyeing off his father. I like how in these two photos he looks a bit like both of us.



His favourite present this year came from Nell, who splashed out on a proper Socceroo shirt for him. She even brought it over in time for him to wear while watching the Socceroos qualify for the final of the Asian Cup. He was so delighted that he said No way! when he opened it. As Nell said, you know you've got them a winner when they say no way.

My firstborn is a teenager now.

Unbelievable. Days long, years short.  It wasn't so long ago that he was these versions of himself...



.. and now, in a flash we have the teenage version. Nearly as tall as me. Very likely stronger than me, with all that swimming and gymnastics he's done. A delight.



He was five when I started this blog. He was making fairy traps in the backyard and falling asleep during car trips.  Now he waters the garden and organises his room and stationery for going back to high school, and worries about how his hair looks.

To celebrate his big birthday we rose early for a pancake breakfast ...


(no photos of that so here he is opening his presents.)

... took a train trip into the city ...


... saw a movie (Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2) ...


... came home and watched some Modern Family episodes (the dvds were his birthday present)
 

 ... had dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant...


... and then had birthday cake at home.


I have it on Tracey's authority that teenagers are wonderful human beings and that we shouldn't assume that the adolescent years will be awful. My gut feeling is that Climber won't be awful, given his sweet nature and kind heart. I do expect him to give me cheek and question my authority, and that has started already, but he's pretty funny with it so it's not unbearable.  (Yet.) I think that what I really fear about the teenage years is the inevitable pulling away from us, his parents, and while I see on a rational level that this is something that needs to happen, I will miss the close and almost exclusive relationship that we've had. My intention is to follow Suse's example; she said once that no matter how old her children get, the rule is they must still kiss and cuddle their mother. This is a most excellent rule, and I hereby put it in writing.



Happy birthday gorgeous boy. Every day you make us happy.

Supercherub

The Cherub has turned 10. I know!! Where did that decade go? To mark this momentous occasion - it is double figures after all - we gave him a super-suit and some flying lessons.



...and as if that wasn't enough, we also gave him Lego. Because that child would not believe it was properly his birthday if there was no Lego.
 

There was also chocolate cake with smarties on top ...



... and extended family.



(Which is why I have such top-notch photographs of the Supercherub, and his celebrations!)



Happy Birthday, you crazy diamond.



Shine on.
 

Nine

On the morning of Cherub's ninth birthday he woke at 6.30am and crept out to check the kitchen clock.  Uh-oh, too early. Back to bed he slipped, til j-u-s-t before 7am, at which time he stole quietly into our bedroom and stood there, smiling excitedly and expectantly.

We roused ourselves to cuddle him and to exclaim that he couldn't possibly be as old as nine.  But he nodded his head firmly, he knew he was, he'd been counting down the days.

Time then for getting dressed and eating breakfast, and then....

Presents!!!!!



First up, a clue hunt, set-up for him by his awesome brother.

 







Then it was time for the Mum-n-Dad presents...



A gold talking dalek, all good.



And of course, some lego.

Later we had friends round for birthday cake







...and a couple of raucous games of Billionaire!





After they all left he spent some happy hours building his lego.
Seems to have been a good day.

Meanwhile...

Nine?!?!?!

Pfft. That can't be right.
Happy birthday crazy, funny, smoochy boy. You rock.

School.

You know my baby?



This one?



My bay-bee, my bubbsy boy?



He looks a bit more familiar with hair I suppose.



Oh, wait, that's not much hair. Try this one.



Yeah. Little long-haired baby boy. You know who I mean.



The one that suddenly grew longer and thinner overnight.



My Cherub, that's the one.

Well.


He started school today.


I wouldn't believe it either, except the house is so quiet now.



Do you want a walk-through?





Okay. Well. There were a few tears in the car.

[Me, not him.]

When we got to the playground, he put his schoolbag down (proudly) in the same place Climber does and went off happily to play on the equipment. Then the bell went and we headed over towards his classroom. That was when things got a bit wobbly.

[Still me, not him.]



We all went into the classroom together, a first day treat. He put his schoolbag in his locker (another proud moment) and then sat down in front of the big pirate ship that had caught his eye. His friends soon joined him, and they started playing very happily. Meanwhile my friend Lucy (mother-of-Cherub's-Best-Friend) and I surreptitiously shared tissues and tried to keep it together. Look, nearly managed it!



We took a few family shots, and see, everybody is happy. That's not so hard now, is it?



Oh wait. W-a-i-t a minute.



Pardon? How's the Cherub?

He was completely fine. Only one baby in this household today.

Eight

Dear Climber,

For your 8th birthday we gave you a special day of treats.

When you woke up your brother gave you the card he'd made all by himself. (It's a drawing of a Lego rock monster)



And we gave you a present. The mail-order Lego didn't arrive in time but you were happy with the little gold-digging set.



Then, at your request, we all caught a train into the city.



We went to the toyshop at Myer to spend the birthday money from your Grandmas. (You didn't actually request that bit, that was my idea.) Of course you chose Lego.


(we would have liked to buy this Lego)

Or THIS one.



Then we found a place that could make a spider for you (your special birthday request) and a milkshake for Cherub and coffees for Fixit and me. (And threw in a doughnut too, it was your birthday after all)



We caught the train back home.



Then you played.



That evening, we went to one of those family restaurants where they have indoor playgrounds for the kids, and had birthday dinner with our friends. My meal was 'orrible but you enjoyed your pizza and lemonade.



When we got home we had birthday cupcakes.



As we tucked you into bed that night you said thank you to us and told us it was the best birthday ever.

We said Our pleasure, sweetie. You're worth it.

Happy 8th birthday, gorgeous boy.