At this precise moment four years ago, I was sneaking in a final little nap while waiting in the hospital bed for the midwife to take me for a c-section. It was as if I knew that the (not so) little whirlwind about to come into my life would require as many cat naps as I could manage.

At 12:50pm you joined the world. All 10lb 7.5oz of you. The Boy. The man in my life. The car-obsessed, routine-remembering, sleep-loving, handsome, hungry chap. And now look! You might have aged me more than the years you’ve been holding my hand, but today you are most definitely 4.

When cars are life
Let’s start with the cars. You will never meet a child who has not only acquired so many little toy cars, but also knows the brand of every.single.one. The Boy has decided that, when he grows up, he would like either a Lamborghini OR a Fiat. So he’s setting realistic expectations at both ends of the car spectrum, but at least he knows where his loyalties lie and that’s with Italian cars.

Probably worth adding at this point that his loyalty will waiver somewhat if a Tesla is on the table. He’s asked for a Tesla (an actual Tesla) for his birthday. Disappointment awaits…

He also remains loyal to biscuits, yoghurts, strawberries and Kinder chocolate bars. There will never be enough of any of these things in our kitchen, or indeed Tesco. While not as challenging as his sister when it comes to food, the Boy still knows what he likes and what he doesn’t like and he has absolutely no grounds for the latter. For example, “potatoes are too scary for me” is not a valid reason to leave roasties on the side of the plate (but happily polish off chips or potato waffles…go figure). He also doesn’t like vegetables, apparently. But that doesn’t bother him when a pasta bake is full of them, and I’ve hidden a million of the things in a bolognaise.

Starting at Big Boy School™
Two weeks ago he started school. Despite sleepless nights (me) worrying how he would cope after six months at home, six months of no playgroup and other children, six months stuck to his sister’s shadow, and (of course) six months of on-demand snacks, he was unphased. He sailed into that classroom like he had been going every day for ages. Like he had never been away from children his own age, and like he was ready for a break from me and Bear.

A fortnight in and his Trip Advisor review would likely read: “Lovely people, lots of playing, I like the yard (when the slide isn’t wet) and I like eating my snack on the carpet. I like going to the toilet on my own, and I go around flushing them if other children forget. Oh, and I quite like learning stuff on the side.” Time well spent, then.

Turning 4
On Friday we went to the Post Office to buy his birthday balloon and the lady asked him, knowingly, “So young man, why do you need a number 4 balloon?”. He looked at her, dead pan, and said “Because my number 3 one has gone down now.” I live with that innocent humour and randomness every day – how lucky am I?

Happy birthday little man. 3 has been full of ups and (lock)downs, let’s see what Level 4 has in store. For forever trying to fix things with a toy drill, for leaving toy cars under my feet in every room, for wanting regular cuddles, and for climbing up/on/in/under things that would never occur to anyone else to be conquerable, we love you millions.

Love from Mummy & Bear xxx