It's my baby's birthday today! He is now eight years old. The first thing that means to me is that there is no more booster seat. I will miss it, if I'm honest. I have an attachment to it, which albeit may be unnatural, but I do. It makes me feel like my small giant is not in fact almost a big boy, which is almost a pre-teen, which is almost a teenager, which is almost flying the coup.
Really. First they made me give up his cot. Then his high chair. Then his baby seat – and now this. It feels like the last link to his baby/little kid years is being torn from me. I love the way he falls asleep sometimes with his head resting to the side, supported by the head rest. What will he do now if he's sleep, I ask of you? What about my auto-flick of the rear vision mirror – I'll have to retrain myself to flick a good 10 centimeters down! Oh, the inconvenience of it all. It sounds both cliche and dramatic (what a talent), but I'm just saying it's a travesty, really, that children must grow up so quickly.
To think one day my Man Cub will in fact be a MAN. Astonishing! He's my little best mate, and the place I find absolute joy. Happy Birthday to the best pal a girl could ask for. Even though you won't be in a booster, you'll always be my baby boy.
Image by Karen Buckle Photography
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