This is the last week my boy will be five years old.
I’m so happy for him because he’s so happy! It feels like he’s waited a.g.e.s. to be 6 years old, as most of his friends at school are already six.
Being six years old is on the horizon.
However, I don’t want him to be six. Not yet, anyway!
Being five he’s still my baby. My little one.
Being six, is different. He’s nearer double digits; he’s getting further away from his baby years.
I remember the day of his birth; the slow run up as he was two weeks late; the taxi ride to the birth centre with a driver concerned about his shiny new car and the very, very speedy delivery!
Little Mister is my baby, but as he turns six my baby is turning into a wonderful young boy.
But he always will be the Baby. The youngest in the family. And sometimes don’t I know he knows it!
Every morning starts with at least a quarter of an hour of Mummy Hugs, which I hope never changes. Like clockwork, at 6.45am every morning Little Mister hurls himself into our bed for Mummy Hugs. I don’t ever want these to stop.
When he’s being mischievous we have baby talk. Sometimes I’m sure Little Mister only really does it to drive Mademoiselle crazy! When the words ‘Ugh, he’s sooo annoying’ come out you know fireworks are going to fly!
When he’s tired he still reaches for Panda. Watching him curl up on the sofa with his special cuddly toy, who’s as old as he is, he looks so small and baby-like.
But then I look at his achievements & realise he is growing up fast. Not only his academic achievements which he has had to work for, but his sporting ones too.
He played in his first football tournament at the weekend, battling against the Under 7s teams a year older than his. He team did brilliantly, winning one & loosing three. But that’s one more than anyone anticipated! He received his first football trophy, he moved up a level in swimming, now training in deep water. He’s no longer doing baby gym and paddling in the shallow pool!
This is his last week of being five years old and I have to accept my Baby is growing up.
So, what has being five meant?
Being five has been fun.
Being five has brought into our house football, and more particularly Tottenham Hotspur.
Being five has introduced us to the world of The Dandy and Desperate Dan has brought out a desire in Little Mister to read for himself.
Being five has brought with it a love of music, Little Mister’s playlists on Deezer and lip-syncing to Rag n’ Bone Man.
Being five has filled our house with Lego Ninjago and the World of Spinjitsu.
Being five has seen his imagination explode with bespoke-build-Lego cars and me cursing as I tread on the Lego confetti left on the carpet.
Being five has seen him & his sister still be best buddies, with sleepover weekends happening in each other’s rooms with a sneaky midnight (ok, 9pm) feast and giggles before bedtime.
Being five has been awesome – and it doesn’t get much better than winning a trophy!
Being six will be just as amazing, eye-opening and filled with love & fun. I just have to remember to take off my Baby-Tinted glasses once in a while. My baby’s growing up!
I'm Tracey, nice to meet you. Mummyshire was 'born' three years ago after we moved from London to the Oxford countryside. Here I chart our journey adjusting to our new lives, the challenges of being in the countryside & surviving parenthood.