Sunday, 8 December 2013
Little boys become . . .
We weren't going to have any more children . . . we thought four was quite enough, but then all of a sudden, there you were and I was so happy because deep in my heart I had wanted another one all along . . . my secret wishes had come true . . .
And I treasured you, deep in my belly . . . every little flutter, every kick. I loved you with all of my heart from the moment I knew you were coming, and treasured this special time that was just ours and nobody elses. You were special to me from the very beginning . . .
And then you were here and I had to share you with everyone else. But I still cherished little pockets that were still just ours . . . dancing in the kitchen with you cuddled in my arms to Patio Lanterns, bed time story snuggles, watching Our Vines Have Tender Grapes together, just you and me . . . you were my liten gutt . . . and you grew and grew and grew . . . you were everyone's baby. Not just mine anymore . . .
A little boy who loved to ride his bicycle, corny rice, video games, power rangers, tree forts, the little monster books, night-time snuggles and a million other things, and who hated pigeons . . .
And still you grew and evolved and became . . .
A young man with a thousand dreams and hopes and desires . . . and we were far apart and I missed you, but I was proud of who you were becoming. Loving you in whatever way you would allow me to . . . always
And still you grew and evolved and before I knew it you became . . .
a man. Twenty five years have flown by faster than I can believe . . . mine no longer. Independant. Good. Decent. Responsable. Hard working. Smart. Handsome. Strong. Kind.
You went from this . . .
to this . . .
in the blink of an eye . . .
I love you son. I hope that you have a very happy twenty-fifth birthday.
No matter . . . you will always be my little boy. I cherish you in my heart still and always. No one can ever take that away from me.
Little boys come in all shapes and sizes,
Shy and adventurous, full of surprises,
With misshapen halos and mischievous grins,
Small dirty faces, and sweet, sticky chins.
They'll keep you so busy, and yet all the while
Nothing can brighten the world like their smile.
And no greater treasure has brough home more joy
Than a curious, active and loveable boy.
Cooking in The English Kitchen today . . . Chocolate Dipped Peanut Brittle.
Have a wonderful Sunday.