Wednesday, September 01, 2010

Spuddy 4th Birthday

It is nigh upon midnight on my son's 4th birthday and I am propping my eyes open with matchsticks I'm so tired.

It's been an enormous day - in the end there were 21 children here, although not all at once and some of them were younger siblings... but still. 21 children. Twenty one. Children.

We also hosted an all-day play-date for 4 of them as part of our 'nursery is closed, let's all look after each other's kids' rota. Luckily one of the Dad's was over offering support or I would have been under the table by noon.

The mistake, I think, was getting the kids doing party decorations at 10am; by the time 11am rolled around all they wanted to do was eat cake and have a party; making them wait until 3:30 when everyone else got here was perhaps a leetle draconian. Still, it was a day.

It's beyond cliche, any mention of how much a parent loves their child and so just assume I've laid down all the cliches for you here, just sicked them up and rolled them out to pulsate pinkly in the light of the laptop screen... Yes, it is true, I love my son... and today he really shone.

He was, in the main, generous with his time and his toys (to the point where many of them are broken or thrown to the wild winds... we will never have a party in the house again), he cleaned up, he helped out, he led games and was among a small coterie of the best behaved children. He didn't push or throw, tease or bully, he didn't snatch or hog; he was a total gent and I'm a whole other hill of cliches proud.

4 is quite grown up, it turns out. Not as grown up as it seems when one is 3, ie, he has discovered to his chagrin that he cannot drive the car or go to the park by himself or ride his new bike without stabilisers or... there was something else he wanted to do today that I told him he couldn't do until he was a grown up. 'So, when I'm 5?' he asked, hopefully.

Still, in the last year he has grown tall enough to reach the taps in the kitchen, the doorbell outside and a whole host of things I sort of reckoned we had another year or two before he could do. He can take things out of the fridge and pour them into cups without spilling, dress himself, wash himself, get in and out of the bath just by stepping over the edge...

Anyway, all to say that he's remarkably grown up, an illusion that is swiftly shattered when one sees him next to any child over the age of 8 and suddenly he looks so tiny and vulnerable that I feel the need to swoop over him and carry him home; something about which he would in general be quite happy about; chances of a carry when one is nearly three foot six and weighs in at 43 pounds are pretty slim on the ground.

So, that's that. He's 4. Happy Birthday, baby bear.

18 comments:

Belinda said...

Happy, Happy Birthday Charlie. Mum - mummy deserves to be proud of you today and every other day. Steph, you never fail to amaze me with your words and descriptions - the love just pops out of the screen. Miss you lovely mum, Binz xx

Jennie said...

Happy Birthday, to you all.

Carol said...

Awwww, that was a lovely post! He sounds like a lovely wee boy and you are quite right to be proud of him!

C x

DJ Kirkby said...

I got twitchy at the thought of 21 children. Are. You. Completly. MAD? OMG...

Sparx said...

Binz - thanks you! You know what it's like though. Still v sorry we missed you this visit x

Jennie - thanks!

Carol - he is a lovely wee boy, thanks!

DJ - yes, bonkers. We were rather expecting a few cancellations! It was really fun though and the parents are all so cool that we had a lovely party.

Kathryn said...

No freakin way! I remember the post about you trying to wean him and and you were feeding him mashed potato (?) in his high chair and how spectacularly that failed. That story was the reason I breastfed my son until he weaned himself at 19 months ;).
Congratulations on 4 years!

Sphinx said...

For Charlie

Happy birthday, big boy! What a lucky boy you are to be growing up in such a loving, nurturing family.
Don't grow tooooo fast.

Love and kisses

Sparx said...

Kathryn - wow, wow, thanks so much for that comment; can't believe you've held on for so long reading this damn thing... how did the weaning go in the end - 19 months is incredibly impressive!

Sphinx - I'll pass that on to him, thanks for the kind words!

darth sardonic said...

happy bday to the boy. and 21 kids?(!!!!)? you are, in a word (and my own inimitable manner), batshit starkers!

Sparx said...

Darth! As always you make me laugh... batshit maybe... but starkers? No no no, fully clothed at all times. Most times.

darth sardonic said...

not starkers naked, stark-raving mad! lol, i like where your mind went with that though.

Metropolitan Mum said...

Happy Birthday!!

Funnily enough, I had a conversation with my husband this morning, wondering how long it will take for little L to be big enough to make herself breakfast. Now I know. Only another 2 1/2 years getting up too early at weekends.

Muddling Along Mummy said...

21 children???? Oh my

Happy Birthday!

And well done you

Sparx said...

Darth - I suspected as much but you know. The obvious.

Metropolitan Mum - yes, I'm waiting for him to be able to fry up an omelette next. For now I'll settle for juice!

Muddling Along - thanks so much; I feel I am still in recovery...

cactus petunia said...

Happy Birthday to the little guy!

Sparx, you are either completely nuts, or a very, very brave woman to have 21 toddlers in your house all at once!

Kathryn said...

Sparx, I have missed bits along the way but you are always the blogger I return to ;)

And the weaning went like this:
he just stopped asking for it, a week later he did his little demanding finger point + "oooooh?" and I replied "milk's finished"

The end.

Sparx said...

Kathryn - Sounds like you were both ready then! We gave up finally at 14 months but had been tailing off for two. I gave up the night-time feed and that was the one he really wanted so after that it just happened naturally... Well done anyway and thanks again for the kind words.

Sue said...

Aww, happy belated birthday, Spud-that-was.