I just got home from my Boy’s 7th birthday celebration. We saw Diary of a Wimpy Kid, based on the popular book series by Jeff Kinney, and had dinner at Boston Pizza.
The whole evening, I kept watching him. My son. There’s absolutely no more baby-ness left in him. He’s all boy, and changing so rapidly. I feel a bit overwhelmed by how fast it’s all happening.
I’ve been kind of quiet today. My mind wanders from the three days I spent in labour before I had him (this photo was taken when he was one day old). To his first day of school, and how the principal called me because he was crying and homesick. To my flight to India with him when he was only four months old. To how much guilt I felt when his sister was born when he was just eighteen months, and how I didn’t know how I could ever have enough love or time for both of them.
He was the first. He had a part of me that the others didn’t get. The wonder and enthusiasm at everything being a first time. My unadulterated, complete and utter attention was his.
Now, he’s seven. I find myself praying, please slow things down – don’t make it go by so fast.