Tag Archives: mom

Now we are 10.

It seems like yesterday that I woke up in the recovery room after an emergency C-section and felt like I had been sliced in half. Well, I was, but you know what I mean.

After I woke up in the recovery room and the staff felt all was well, I was wheeled to my room and there was Elton sitting on a chair with what looked to my drugged eyes, a very  lumpy chest.

He then lifted his T-shirt and out popped this little wrinkly old man who was HUNGRY.  I was so drugged and woozy and in an acute state of WTF, that it felt really weird and odd to have to take this little person and be all gooey and motherly.

It didn’t happen immediately, but when it happened, I felt all the feels.


And now it feels like I blinked and you morphed into this young MAN. Double digits. A decade. 10. Two hands full. I’ve been a mother for ten years but I still feel like an utter failure and a total newbie at times.

I find myself trying to desperately grab the time I feel slipping through my hands.

The hair on your legs, arms and upper lip are growing thicker. The little boy face is gone and instead of flushed cheeks and sweaty forehead, we now have little pimples and a fine layer of hair making themselves at home. I am taller than you by just a third of a head.

You are a beautiful soul inside and out. Funny, smart, loving, loyal and full of empathy. You made me a mother and you’re still teaching me so much every day.

I love what a great person you are. I wish I had a friendy like you when I was growing up.

I love your sense of humour, you have me howling with laughter many times a day and I love that we have the same sense of humour.

I love how you protect your friends and people who you feel are in need of protection. Your instincts are spot on and you fight for justice.

I love how you run with something once you’ve made a decision. And that you know that every action has a consequence. Sometimes the consequences are not that great, but you own it, because you considered it while making your decision.

I love that you are not afraid to let your feelings show, to share them and to be sad and cry if you feel like it. This is so important.

I love that consent is already a part of your thinking and how considered your actions are. That you still ask me if you can lie on my lap or chest and if I’m okay with you leaning on or touching me (especially after my long commute home when I’m almost always all peopled-and-touched out).

I love all the lessons you’ve been teaching me since day 1. They weren’t always pleasant, but they were necessary. You are my ride-or-die, my bae and my bestie. You are my worst critic (with love) and my best encourager. I love what “making” you has done for my self-confidence. Since making you, I have a whole new respect for my body and I love how strong she is. I used to hate my broad shoulders and not-so-petite body before you as I was teased and humiliated because of my big body.

But after having you, I realise my body was made this way so I could safely build you when the time came. This powerful, not-so-petite body built the most spectacular 10 pound baby and for that I am happy to endure all the teasing and humiliation all over again. Now you know the pride and strength I feel when I say “I built that!” when looking at you. (Three weeks ago you overheard me telling my friend Traceyanne about what having you did for my body positivity and self-image and when we were alone you asked me if I meant what I said. And seeing your face beam when you realised what an effect you (and your words) have on me, was super special.

I love all our deep chats whether we’re bobbing in the ocean or lolling on the couch. And I can never get enough of our silly chats and nonsense songs (especially when we’re supposed to be falling asleep).

I love that you can go from hanging with the boys and being all grown up with your squad all day, to wanting to melt into the safety and warmth of my lap to just be my Beeb.


But most of all, I love you. Just you. Being you. Being mine. Being of me. Because before long, you will spread your wings and find your space in the big wide world. But until then, I still have you all to myself!

Happy birthday, Beeb!