The Moustache on my Weg

I’m sure it’s the same for anyone with children, but for me, parenthood has been an amazing trip from one extreme to another. I’m continually astounded by evolution; by the fact that babies start to interact, crawl, talk. They sponge up everything around them and ……screech to a halt…..THEY TAKE IN EVERYTHING AROUND THEM and you, err suddenly realize that you have to dot your i’s and cross your t’s from now on or else you’re cruising for trouble. The first sign that my husband and I had of this was when our son, ‘A’ suddenly started shouting ‘bumholes’ after overhearing a conversation between us about his baby sister’s diaper rash. Luckily for us his annunciation wasn’t perfect- it still isn’t, head is ed, love is wuv, leg is weg. In short, we got away with it because no one really knew what he was saying, but it was a wakeup call anyway.

This summer brought with it a new kind of comprehension.   ‘A’ started to put pieces together, figure things out and each time something new came out of his mouth I was amazed at the way the mind grows and learns. Amazed, and as it turned out, caught red handed. I’d known that it was coming, but I’d had it easy for too long. The time had  come for me to pull my socks up.

‘A’ had been struggling to overcome a toilet issue at his new preschool and right in the last throws of summer he succeeded, bringing his training seat home for good. I knew that he’d found it hard and I was so proud that I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face all the way home. On impulse I decided to swing by Dairy Queen where I picked up a couple of ice-cream cones. We sat in the hot car licking them in silence and I suddenly felt a real need for ‘A’ to understand that this was a treat for a very special, very specific reason.

“Do you know why I bought you the ice-cream?” I asked

“Why?”

“The ice-cream is because you have been such a good boy at pre-school. And now you don’t need the training toilet seat anymore. I am so proud of you”

“I’m a big boy now”

“You are. And I got you the ice-cream cone because you’ve done such a good job”

‘A’ looked at me carefully. Intently. Curiously.

“And what’s your ice-cream for?” he asked.

He had a point.

I chuckled to myself all the way home, the underlying feeling that I’d somehow been caught out; like my free ride was over. Since then, I’ve realized that nothing gets past this boy. He’s watching, listening, thinking and although he doesn’t always get it right, the things that come out of his mouth make me marvel at the ability of the brain to put it all together.

Last week ‘A’ crawled into bed with me one lazy morning and when I finally hauled myself up he stared quizzically at my…..err…..slightly unkempt leg.

“Mummy!” he suddenly exclaimed “You have a moustache on your weg!”

Like I said, nothing gets past this boy. It’s time to pull my socks up – in every possible way!