My beautiful grown up boy, when I began replacing a birthday card with a blog post, number four felt so far away, and yet here we are. This last year has gone even quicker than the one before, and within it there have been new memories made, new challenges overcome, more lessons learnt, and all the magic and madness that happens in between.

On the eve of your birthday I always find myself feeling exactly the same as the year before; emotional and nostalgic, and really quite overwhelmed with gratitude. A year seems to pass by in the blink of an eye, but in the run up to your big day, I always allow myself to reminisce about everything that led to you being mine. From the surprise of finding out I was pregnant, the long nine months spent throwing up morning, noon and night, holding you for the first time, and of course, watching you grow from a new born right through to the proper little boy that you are now.

Every year when I write your birthday post, I think about all of my favourite moments of that year, and the new branches of your tree that from nowhere have grown. The last few weeks have been beyond hectic, and so this years post is rather late, but it’s given me more time to reflect on our fourth year together, and I really hope that one day you’ll love reading these posts as much as I have writing them.

This year I’ve been completely bowled over by how quickly your confidence has sky rocketed. Your ability to charm and befriend complete strangers wherever you go is quite impressive. Someone only has to be stood still for thirty seconds, and look at you for one, and you’re straight over introducing yourself asking if they want to play. Just yesterday a little girl was standing at a shop door in Albir, and you immediately tugged at my cardigan telling me she wanted to play with you. She wasn’t even looking in your direction but you didn’t notice that, and like a true Romeo, you rummaged in your pocket and whipped out your raisin packet ready to share them so you could somehow start a conversation. Even when you should probably give up, you never do, not until you’ve found a way to connect, and it’s without a doubt one of my most favourite things about you. Your kindness and inclusivity of everyone has me bursting at the seams with pride.

On the other hand, your cheeky personality is growing by the day, and you’re constantly reminding me how easily we can have fun. Just yesterday we sat on the beach and spent ages throwing rocks into the water, you couldn’t have been happier, and nor could I. You make me laugh on a daily basis, and are one of the most inquisitive little humans I know, you’re constantly asking questions, and forever wanting to know why. As you seek to get to the most granular detail, I can almost see the cogs of your brain spinning as you soak up all the information.

Your memory is astounding, and you are always telling me about things that happened months ago, sometimes even years. I only ever have to tell you something once and like an elephant, you never forget.

However, you can still throw the most spectacular tantrum, with the newly added ability to totally patronise me by speaking as though I am both hard of hearing and have the inability to speak much English. You usually finish off by folding your hands across your little body, stamping your foot and telling me off as though you are the parent. I dread think what’s going to happen when you turn 5.

That being said, a few weeks ago, you accidentally whacked me across my arm with a very solid piece of cardboard, neither of us was expecting it to be so painful and it really did take us by surprise. I yelped in pain and your little face was so upset to see me struggling. You immediately said sorry and took yourself off to sit on the stairs. When I asked what you were doing, your face dropped as you told me you were on the naughty step for hurting mummy. I’m quite sure the world heard my heart break into a thousand pieces. You felt so guilty and it took me ages to convince you that it didn’t matter because I knew how sorry you were and that it was an accident. You might be totally bonkers, which I adore you for, but you have so much love and affection for other people, it completely melts me.

When I think about everything I have been through since you were born, having you in my life has given me a purpose. I tried hard to be the perfect mum, because life as a grown up has always been about the expectation of others, but you’ve taught me that I don’t need to be perfect, that you don’t expect anything, except being loved, and that I can do. It’s what I do best. You are the very reason I have gotten up and fought to keep strong, and sometimes it really has been a fight. You are the reason I’ve overcome many obstacles, and the reason I’ve given things a second go. You are the very reason I have a voice and stand up for myself, for us and the things that I am really passionate about. You are the reason I have finally realised who I am. In your four short years you’ve been my teacher and guide in so many ways, and you are always the light that guides me home when I am lost in the dark.

Happy birthday Son, I love you very much and couldn’t be prouder to be your mama.

Love and kisses, Mummy. X


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