Tuesday, October 03, 2006
my baby's no baby no more
It is four years now since I was handed a round fat ball of wrapped-up baby Benjamin. His face was chubby, and his brow was creased as if he was deeply concerned. Fatty and I looked at each other and grinned. "He looks like a front-rower!", Fatty murmured proudly.
Our infant son has grown to be a nuggety little fellow, who today celebrates his birthday with the aid of his new Superman outfit and a set of walkie-talkies. Ben is a fiercely loving, chatty, vigorous kid who never ceases to amaze us with his humour and his inquiring mind.
He greets us in the morning by shouting "Cock-a-doodle-doooooooo!" from his bedroom (not so cute at 6am, but tolerably cute as I recall this now). He farewells me before work with, "Bye Mum. Love you. Drive carefully. Don't crash!". At night, he delays sleep by getting up to ask us intriguing questions:
"Were ankylosauruses plant-eaters?", or "When Holly (his kindy teacher) is old, how will we know which nursing home she's in?". When he falls asleep at last, he looks much younger - clutching an old cot sheet, thumb in mouth.
Before Ben came along, I worried that I could never love a child the way I love his sister, our beloved Laura-girl. And yet, here is proof that the heart has an infinite capacity for love - I love my son deeply, powerfully, utterly.
Happy Birthday, Ben. May you have a life full of the happiness you bring to us each day.