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.

Twenty Years.

Last night the whole family went out to dinner to celebrate the fact that Fixit and I have been together for twenty years. (I think this means we must have started going out when we were children, because twenty whole years can't possibly be right! Not when I'm still this young.)  The actual anniversary (of the party where he was brought along to be 'set-up with someone' and that someone totally got to give him their phone number by the end of the night) is on Friday, which is also my birthday, but I am nicking off early Friday morning to Craft Camp for the long weekend.  (Best birthday treat I could have, Craft Camp. Fabulous company, food, drink and crafting, plus a bath and a massage planned.  I am only sad that we won't be joined by a treasured member of our clan this weekend, owing to family circumstances.)

Anyway. We had a lovely time out at a local groovy Vietnamese restaurant last night. The food was delicious and the kids were excellent company. Impressively, Cherub was able to spot yet another poisoning attempt on his life before it came to pass, and politely-but-firmly declined the waitress' offer of chocolate or strawberry topping on his plain vanilla ice-cream.  These would-be assassins must be so frustrated with Cherub's vigilance.

And twenty years, hey? Twenty really good years: lots of laughter, lots of kindness, lots of pleasure in each others' company.  Annoyances and spats, yes, because living with other people brings that in its wake. (And men can be so annoying.)  But always there for each other through illness and adversity and challenge and change.  We never got married and set it out in public that we would do this, but we have.  And best of all we can share the love with our two gorgeous boys, who light up our lives every day.  So Happy Anniversary Mister Fixit.  Here's to the next twenty xxx.

Five.

Somebody once said to me of having children that the days are long but the years are short. It's so true. I still think of this place as the new house, and yet I was 6-months pregnant with Cherub when we arrived, and all of a sudden he just turned 5. Just like that, bang. He is now a proper Big Boy. Well, according to him anyway. In my heart he's still my baby. My bay-bee!!!

He's been counting down to the big day for ages, since before my birthday in June. My stock answer to how many sleeps till my birthday? was A hundred! until we came into the last month. Then he started counting back from 32, assisted eventually by a special tick chart because although he was always right (Chenty-nine sleeps till my birfday!) he kept wanting confirmation (is it 29, Mummy?) which meant I needed to keep checking the calendar.

People have started asking me what I'll do with myself when he starts school next year, and the answer is: Miss him. I mean sure, I'll build up the tap business, get some proper choreography done and help out at school and stuff, but to be honest, I'm more than a bit worried about how lonely I'll feel. Cherub is my little chum, and he's just the nicest companion. We love hanging out together, doing our stuff. We hold hands and skip together down the street. I can take him anywhere and we'll enjoy ourselves, because he's so obliging and sweet-tempered. I love the funny conversations, the earnest look he gets in his eyes when he's telling me something very important (usually about trains). I love the bum-dances, the way he can play quietly at home for hours so that I can do my thing, the way he is still so helpful, the way he pipes up suddenly twenty times a day I love you Mummy, which NEVER gets boring or commonplace. I love his ready laugh and I love just looking at his sweet face.

Seeing as I can't put a brick on his head to stop him growing up and away, I'll settle for wishing him Happy Birthday instead. (My baby.)

The Cherub ...

... used to look like this.

.. is cheeky. And an entertainer. And a smooch.

...is left-handed (we're pretty sure). And he loves to do whatever his big brother does.

... thinks The Climber is the best person in the whole world. The best.

... is a very sociable chap. He loves to play with his friends. He loves to go to creche. He has many grown-up friends too. He has nearly killed himself by trying to rush on to a crowded main road so that he could hurl himself into the arms of one of his favourite people, Elda.

... has a Best [grown-up] Friend in Nell. When she comes to our house on Saturday they are almost inseparable. She lets him help make her coffee and he wants her to give him his bath and read his bedtime story. They have a special bond.

... is lucky to be surrounded by loving family and friends. No wonder he is such an affectionate, happy, good-natured little boy. He and Climber are the lights of our lives, the apples of our eyes.

... still needs help blowing out the candles on his birthday cake.


... is 4.