It’s my big guy’s birthday tomorrow – he will be 14.
Where’s the Kleenex?
The thing is when your eldest child gets older, THAT’S when you realise a) how far you’ve come, from the dopey 25 year old who thought the baby thing was a doddle, and 2) how old you, in fact, are.
When I look at that picture I can still see the lisping three year old, who dragged around a teddy and wobbled his head from side to side everytime he spoke. But I can also see the guy who will get into his car someday in the near future and drive away from me, into his own life.
I think I will ground him for the next thirty years. It can be his birthday present.