Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Yesterday, I got to hold my lovely neighbour's beautiful one-day old baby boy. He is 22 months younger than his big sister, exactly the same age gap as that between my two. His sister is the same age as my youngest, which has made me realise that my "baby" is really not one anymore. I guess younger children always do remain the baby of the family, but perhaps I have been holding my son back in an attempt to preserve all those delightful babyish qualities. The fact that he is still breastfeeding plays a major part in this, but there are also other things that I have neglected to do for him, which would enable him to be more independent. For example, I realised that by his age my daughter was selecting her own clothes, something that caused some strife between us, especially when she insisted on summer dresses in the middle of winter. I was thinking isn't that strange, maybe it's because he's a boy... when it occured to me that the reason he doesn't dress himself, is because he doesn't have easy access to his clothes. With my daughter, I was in such a hurry for her to grow up, to reach the next milestone, that I was always one step (or chapter in the book) ahead, but with my youngest, the opposite is true: I want to slow it all down. But, he is growing up fast. His language has recently taken a massive jump forward and he is now constructing whole sentences: "Where is [Postman Pat's) van?"; "I am fireman"; "Cat's missing".
I guess it's time to let go a little, tiny, teeny bit more, and move his clothes out of my wardroble and into one of his own.