I say this every year, but where has the time gone? Now you are nine my son, and it only seems five minutes ago that I first became your Mummy. We’ve both had a lot to learn over the last nine years, we’ve both made mistakes, but I think we’ve found a way through parenthood and childhood together. It’s not always been easy, sometimes I’ve felt we’ve both struggled so much more than others seem to, but we never stop trying, we never stop laughing and we never stop loving.
Now you are nine, and I can’t imagine not having you in my life. We drive each other mad at times for neither of us are perfect, in some respects we are just too similar. But at the end of each and every day we know that we are loved, cherished and cared for. My hand is the first you look for, and my reassurance is always there if needed. I see you becoming more and more independent and confident, and as much as my little boy is leaving me, I see him being replaced by a rather wonderful older boy.
Full of fun, cheeky beyond words, inventive and always so full of questions. There are times when I wish those questions would stop being fired at me for a few minutes, but I love the fact that you always want to know more, about everything.
Probably everything that doesn’t include writing and school work though. Still not your favourite things in the world. But we’re seeing changes there too. With your reading, oh what a change, slowly, surely, but hopefully a lasting change. You still find school a challenge and a total inconvenience to your Lego building construction. But you like your teacher, the first time you’ve had a male teacher. He appears to be the fountain of all knowledge, and you certainly listen to him, so maybe school won’t be so hard now you are nine.
Your love of Lego and Steam trains shows no sign of diminishing. I fear my living room is destined to be a building site strewn with Lego and train track for some time to come. That’s fine, most of the time. I know that all too soon you will hibernate in the cocoon of your bedroom, only surfacing to be fed, so I’m cherishing this time right now.
You love Brewster, our cat. More and more each day I think. It’s not a love that’s totally shared, but it doesn’t hold you back.
You will try a few new things, but it’s still a slow process. Will you go to Cubs next week and try go-karting? I still don’t know. We will see, there’s no pressure, but I know you’d love it, if you tried it. Maybe this will be the year we finally persuade you to go on the London Eye!
Now you are nine I can’t wait to see what the year will bring for you. We know it will bring your first school residential in March. You are actually looking forward to it, without hesitation, which is something new. I’m sure there will be a few wobbles before the coach departs, but you’ll have so much fun. You’ll have so many adventures and maybe it will convince you to try camping with Cubs again next year.
Now you are nine I wonder how much longer you’ll want to hold my hand and spend so much time with me. You’re growing up so fast, and it’s lovely to watch you choosing to do things with friends, and striding out ahead of me on our adventures. But then you’re just as happy to chat away and watch the world go by together.
You do need to work on your frustration levels, your temper can be explosive to say the least. But as you become more and more confident in verbalising your feelings, hopefully you will be able to control things a bit better.
I’m sure that there are plenty of boundaries to be pushed in the year ahead. Some you’ll win and others you most certainly won’t. I’m sure that my patience will be tried and I’ll be just as knackered at the end of every day. But that’s motherhood and I’ll take the rough with the smooth.
We’re taking down your digger lampshade and packing up your construction vehicle curtains and duvet covers. All to be replaced by bright red accessories. You’re growing up, your tastes are changing. But no, your father is never going to let you paint the walls red, or have a red carpet I’m afraid.
Now you are nine I’d better get used to be shot at by your new remote-controlled tanks, the only thing you actually specifically asked for, for your birthday. You cake requirements have changed too and you just want to go out for dinner with your best friend. That’s all fine. It’s wonderful to see your friendship with G growing, he’s been your companion for so many years already. Even though you like such different things, you’ve found a way through together and I hope you realise just how lucky you are to have such a good friend. Fingers crossed that that friendship will continue now you are both nine. Nine!!
Know that you are loved, my son. On your ninth birthday and every other day. Know that I am so proud of you and can’t wait to see what this next year brings. But please, please could it go very slowly.