It’s end of an era and the beginning of the next. A point of no return.
He’s a walker.
For just over a week now Anakin has been walking. It started a while ago with a few steps here and there, but he was still very much a crawler, and a furiously fast one. But then something happened. We put him in a new room to give him some more space and some relief from the heat from the air con, and all of a sudden walking became fun. Maybe because it was easier because it is carpeted, maybe falling didn’t hurt as much or maybe it was just that this room was just the right size to make it all the way to something. Soon after his confidence grew through the roof as we were all beaming with pride and cheering him on. A week later and there’s no stopping him. The bruises are bigger, the falls are more painful, but he keeps on trucking, laughing his way from one room to the next. (Babies are funny when they walk, they look like drunk people, but are far more charming.)
I’m afraid my denial of him not being a baby anymore is harder to keep up. I’ve held him a bit closer this week, kissed him even more. My heart bursts with pride and aches as he grows up so fast.
Then there was Friday. I turned 33, and fabulous, I might add. I’m always torn about birthdays. This year my phone didn’t ring a single time, which is one time fewer than last year. In the era of Facebook and texts it seems calling is a thing of the past no matter what your relation. But then again, there’s a lot of birthday love coming from Facebook. And despite having a bit of the birthday blues, I did indeed feel very loved. We celebrated by going out to dinner, and what a marvellous dinner it was. It seems the older I get, the more feminine I choose to become. 33 being the year I’m going to start wearing lipstick. (If I can manage it, it always makes me feel claustrophobic.)
So here’s to being 33 and fabulous, and the mother of a young jedi now mastering the art of walking.
I hope you’ve had a good weekend!