my big big boy

***apologies in advance: im very tired, and baby brain seems to be kicking in early, so you'll just have to deal with my spelling and grammar mistakes. i wont even see them.***



critterbug turned 4 last week. i can hardly believe it. it seems like only yesterday i was lying in a hospital bed, weak from blood loss and sheer exhaustion, trying to stay awake so i could watch this tiny squeaking thing lying next to me.

and now he is four.

he weighs 16kg, and is 106cm tall. we live in an old house - 1920s ish i think - with high ceilings, high door knobs, and high light switches. he can turn on the lights on his own, and can nearly reach the door knobs. he can climb into the bath on his own, with the help of his step, although he has trouble climbing out. this is big help for me, because the bathtub is also quite high - old fashioned clawfoot - and being pregnant makes my already weak and loose joints completely fall to pieces. i can hardly lift the washing basket, let alone a squirming 4 year old anxious to have his bath.

he helps me put away the clean dishes. everything except the knives, because theyre too sharp, and the glasses, because he cant reach. he puts away his own clothes, although the concept of folding escapes him, and he helps me sort mummy and daddy's washing so i can put it away quickly. he hands me the clothes, one piece at a time, with appropriate number of pegs, when we hang out the laundry. he collects the mail from our letterbox.

and he hugs me, and pats me on the shoulder, when im having a hormonal-pregnant-im-fat-and-ugly-and-none-of-my-clothes-fit-and-my-hair-is-hideous-day, and tells me "everything will be alright mummy, i promise. i'll look after you."

and everything is better when those skinny little arms wrap around me, and those enormous dark eyes smile at me.

and sometimes its easy to forget that he is still very small. until he falls asleep in the middle dinner.

or screams when he turns around at the aquarium to be confronted by a truly huge stingray.