It has been a while since my last blog.
You know how it is when you have so much to tell, and don't know where to start?
Fiji, hurricanes, illness, work and family. There are a million blogs to be done about all that, but today I want to talk about my baby.
He sprang forth from me 8 years ago- Where has the time gone? I always joke that if I'd had him 1st, I would have had 6 babies. Thank God I didn't. There's something about the 3rd child. I was more relaxed, I knew what I was doing. I KNEW dirt wasn't lethal and neither was crying. I loved every minute of him. His smell, his little sucking motion when he was asleep, his happy manner when he was awake-he was always smiling and laughing, and so very sweet and caring.
THEN, he went to school and thought he ought to pick up every other child's revolting habits, and bring them home. I particularly loathe the answering back and sarcasm bit.
TODAY, though, there was none of that to be seen......my baby turned 8 at exactly 11.40am this morning. I still remember it like it was yesterday. I think my brain remembers the labour and birth on purpose so that I don't feel the need to go back and do it all again.
TODAY my baby was the sweet and gentle boy I remember, devoid of all nasty habits. As he snuggled into bed with me well before daylight this morning, I caught a hint of baby smell still on him- and as his warm little, sleepy body moulded to mine and a little arm came round my neck I can forget all the "other" stuff and remember what joy he has bought into our lives. Real joy.
Happy 8th Birthday Harry, we love you so much.