Today was a special day for we who occupy The Happy House.
It was Master S' Party Day.
He doesn't turn three until next Sunday (You got it, presents weren't the only things being ripped open that Christmas Day) but we held his Party today, for his little friends to attend, because honestly, who'd go to a birthday party on C-Day? Not me, unless it were my son's. Naturally.
Anyway, even though he isn't three for a whole week, I am blogging now as I have a relatively clear head and would like to post something monumental, to look back on, to remind myself of how I felt at the particular time in his life. Since I forget everything, including the location of my car keys ten minutes before I had to be at Master S' Party, which led to me putting on my ranty pants, having a sook and then finding them exactly where I left them, in the spot I was 'looking', now is as good a time as any to reflect on the past three years (40 weeks and 5 days) of us being a 'couple'.
Becoming a Mummy changed my life.
We all say that, because it really does.
Prior to becoming a mother, I only had my own arse to wipe, myself to feed, my mother hadn't seen me naked since childhood and I could get away with wearing a bikini. Master S changed all of that for me.
For 19 months after his five hour and forty minute labour, we were a fabulous duet. Sure, Hubby did some stuff, but the Kidlet and I were a rad team. I watched (I'm sure Hubby was there, but this really isn't about him) him go from being a little baby who slept a lot to being a cheeky little rolling, crawling then running machine.
We welcomed his sister into our tribe after being together for 19 months, but he was still my little man. He blossomed into a little boy. He developed interests. Trains, cars, planes. He developed a 'style', singlets with bright pink gumboots. He developed a vocabulary. He developed an attitude. He developed a sense of humor. He's just, completely different to the little bluish pink bundle who was placed on my chest, which heaved with complete exhaustion, contentment and an overwhelming love, that still scares the shit out of me, all those years ago.
We've been well together, we've been sick together. We've been through teething, gasto, croup and, are currently going through, low hearing (his, not mine) and toilet training (again, his not mine) together. We're about to hit a milestone, and go through 3 year old Kindergarten together. Next comes 4 year old Kindergarten. Then Primary School. Then High School. Then one day his wedding. The birth of his children.
It seems like a lifetime away.
But so did his third birthday all those years ago, and with every year that passes, I see what's just over the horizon and it scares me.
He'll always be my little boy, but one day, he's not going to need his door open at night to sneak into me if he has a bad dream.
One day, he's not going to need me to lift him onto the toilet and praise him for being a big boy.
One day, he's not going to need me to plug his seatbelt in.
One day, he's not going to need to hold my hand in order to cross the road.
One day, I'm probably going to 'cramp' his style and not be the centre of his world, the way he is, and always will be, the centre of mine.
One day, he's going to be a man.
One day, he's going to feel the same things I'm feeling now, when he has his own children.
I don't know where I'm hoping to go with this. It's been almost three years of Motherhood and it's still an eye opener. I'm sure it will continue in much the same fashion for a long time, yet. I can't say I'm ready for anything, because I'm certainly going to cry just thinking about him going to Primary School, but I'm sure I'll get there. As I have with most things since becoming a Mummy.
So here is to the kid who made it all happen. To the little man who made me 'Mummy' (or in Miss E's case and much to my annoyance 'Tara'), Master S. I hope you have an amazing third birthday next week. I think we're doing something right.
I love you, my Peanut.
Always and Forever.