Monday, 31 May 2010
And Now He Is Seven
Another year has passed, another twelve months where my little boy belongs that much less to me and that much more to the outside world. Time is a mother's thief. It's a funny conundrum, I relish watching my child grow, develop, learn, connect the dots, realize his potential. However, on the other hand, I desperately miss being his entire universe, his preference to my lap over entering a room full of strangers, rocking him to sleep, and reading "Good Night Moon". Time is a indeed this mother's thief.
However, enough introspection, this weekend was birthday party time for a bunch of seven-year olds at a local bowling alley. It was complete with girl drama and resulting tears, breaking-up of wrestling matches on the bowling pistes, and the unexpected doling out of a small fortune on the game machines. But it also included 'Happy Birthday' sung in 3 languages (French, English, and Italian - I love Europe), lots of laughter, a pretty fabulous homemade birthday cake, and one very happy seven-year old birthday boy.
Happily C2 couldn't come up with an excuse to miss the party this year so both he and my ever-obliging-game-for-anything mum were on hand to help with the fun. Of course, I've chosen to ignore C2's muttered comment about preferring to venture into Niger's Al-Queda controlled territory (a trip he is currently considering) over the party as he doused another small drama and placed another franc coin into another outstretched hand for yet another air hockey game.
As I gazed at my slumbering little wonder last night, one arm clutched tight around the genuine bowling pin party gift, his other around the same stuffed Labrador he has slept with since birth, I realized that while he sometimes provokes the worst in me; packed into his 130cm 18 kg body is the absolute best of me.