The older I get, and the more children I have, I think more and more that birthdays shouldn't be about you but about that fabulous woman who had you. Sure, as a baby, the journey down the birth canal and squeezing out the saloon doors must have been hard going but at least we forget it. Mother's don't. The memory of the pain of child birth decreases but you don't forget that moment straight after. That mixture of shear relief that it's over, joy, apprehension, worry, excitement and LOVE.
So to my fabulous mum thank you! I think today is the day you have double radiation treatment to make up for the day you missed due to Queen's Birthday weekend. Tomorrow is the last of it and then you have a whole month off mum. I love you mum. You have always been there. My constant. The thought of a world without this is scary. Mum's make everything better. What do we do to make things better when our mum is gone?
You with long beautiful hair. And me?? I look a bit out of sorts - perhaps like someone has just kidnapped me from my parents in Scandinavia. Meaning that white blond hair of course - what there is of it anyway.
And now onto you Shou, because at 4 you aren't quite old enough to have this profound wisdom that you should be thanking me on your birthday. And also because it is nearly 10am - you were born at 9:58. Time to reflect on the last four years my son.
A bit too much for a public blog but never mind. This is you at 30 weeks darling. What with you being the first child and all I thought I was ready to pop already. And then...
Actually, comparing these pics they don't look that bloody different. You were born, ten days early and on my birthday, about a week after this pic was taken. And yes I wore those preggy pants and that bra just about every second day for six months. I'm pretty certain I wore something over the top of it most days though.
You were so damn adorable. You were perfect. Just perfect. I didn't know what the shit I was doing half the time but Granny K gave me lots of advice (insert what every you fancy).
I'm sure I spent time ranting and bitching about life back then - when I only had one child. God, if you'd told me then that in four years I would have a two and a half year old and one year old as well I would have perhaps tied the saloon doors shut. Instead they appear to have fallen completely off their hinges and you are now a big brother, twice over.
Granny A came over to see you when you were three months old. As far as I can recall you didn't do a big crap straight after this so me thinks this is a genuine smile my boy. (what is it with black and white stripes and this family)
You grew up so fast. I know you're still only 4 but by crickey where has the time gone? Judging by the size of you in this pic and the fact that I don't think I would be sliding down a roller slide either 9 months pregnant or having just given birth, your sister must have arrived and be a good few months old already.
You started getting a bit of a cheeky attitude. Don't worry son. When you're older and can handle the language I'm sure I'll be recalling your early years as living with the spawn of the devil. I'll obviously have to find some other photos to prove it though as you look far too cute in this one.
I think we do OK most of the time - you and me. It's hard sometimes though. Two Gemini's, both B (it's all about ME) blood type and we clash a lot too. Can you hang off on the calling mummy a 'baka'. I work a lot better when I'm not being called a dickhead all day.
You're at that age now where you want to just do everything, see everything, try everything on your own - unless of course it's the important shit like changing, eating and brushing your teeth. I am getting better at letting you help and showing you how things work when you ask. You can even work the blender on your own. You've only forgotten the lid once. You are becoming more and more like an older brother each day. I do feel a bit sorry for you. You had to take on the role early and mum does expect a bit too much from you sometimes.
Right son, it's half nine. This time four years ago I was shouting blue murder at the poor nurses and you were pushing that big head down and out those doors - Christ, I can almost feel the pain. Another 28 minutes and then I can breathe properly again.