Sunday, 12 April 2009

Growing Up

"I don’t want Charlie to grow up," said Sally recently. "He's not a baby anymore." She's right. Her brother's changing almost hour by hour at present - he's got a vocab of, oh about half-a-dozen words; he's walking, climbing onto furniture, throwing balls and crawling round the carpet pushing toy cars, going 'brrrr, brrrr'. He's not a baby. He's a little boy. And he's changed so very quickly. I'm lucky. My day job looking after Charlie means that I can see the changes as they happen. It's a bit like watching a flower opening (but rather more exciting). I can tell Sarah all sorts of exciting (to us!) things when she comes home from work. And there’s something happening almost every day. Not much, maybe; something small, but out of tiny acorns and all that…
But it’s gone on long enough as far as Sally is concerned. If, like a dog, Charlie could perform a few tricks and remain the same, everything would still be fine. But all these changes are a sign of something – he is changing, growing, learning and developing and he's doing it all so quickly. Nothing stays the same, but I find myself sometimes sympathising with her point of view. It can be hard sometimes to find the words to express such feelings, but a day or two ago I found these. They seem to sum things up quite well:
You’re not a baby any more
My baby boy;
You’re growing up too fast,
Sweet baby boy.
And as I tuck you in at night,
Kiss your head and say ‘sleep tight’,
I wonder where the time has gone
My baby boy.
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