Dear Younger Son
It seems like for the last few weeks this blog has been all about you. And why shouldn’t it be? You are an amazing boy and I am so proud to call you my son. You are just the sort of son any parent would wish for.
Today it is most definitely all about you. You came into this world exactly 11 years ago, at 10.23pm. A big, grey lump, slow to start breathing. Slow enough to make your Daddy think we’d lost you. The midwife took one look at you and said: ‘That is NOT an 8lb baby’. You weren’t an 8lb baby, you were a 9lb 3 baby. I’d known all along you would be big.
You still have the look of a 9lb 3 baby – you’re tall, strong and muscular. At first glance you might appear stocky, but you are so thin your ribs stick out. You seem to stand head and shoulders above your classmates, but you are a gentle giant. The kindest, friendliest, sweetest boy. Sometimes quiet and serious, sometimes laughing, joking and hilariously funny.
You started to call me ‘mum’ to be like your big brother, but sometimes, when you forget yourself, you still call me ‘mummy’. You’re my big boy, but I’m not quite ready to be ‘mum’ just yet. You’re not keen on affection, but it doesn’t mean you love us any less. You usually let me give you a cuddle in the morning and at night, but will run away at other times and will always run away from anyone else who tries to kiss or cuddle you.
You’ve only been in year 6 for a few weeks, but it’s already going brilliantly for you. First you were made head boy, then we got the good news that you’d passed the grammar school entrance exam, as I always knew you would. You are such a clever boy. I hope you take the time to really enjoy this last year of school and all the lovely friends you have there. Year 6 can be hard work, but also a lot of fun. The teachers treat year 6s more as equals and always like to have a laugh with them at the end of the year, after the dreaded SATs, which I know you will fly through.
Your brother and sister adore you. You and your brother are partners in crime – always together, usually discussing games. I love to hear you and your sister chatting about the minutiae of school life over breakfast. When it’s just the two of you, you have a remarkable tolerance for her endless chatter.
If I had one complaint about you, you know what it would be. The time you spend on games. You seem to find a way to always be attached to a game. You drift from Xbox to laptop to Kindle and back again, and nothing we say seems to make you change. I’d like to see you spending more time outside, like you did only a year ago.
Oh, and you leave a lot of socks lying around – and then complain that you can’t find any socks to wear. Your bedroom is a mess and you have a huge pile of carefully flattened Caramel Wafer wrappers in there, inspired by Tom Gates.
You still love your rugby and your football. You’re pleased to have finally made it out of defence this season and into midfield. You’ve scored a few goals too. In fact, you’re currently third top scorer in the under 11s league! I know your hat trick the other day means almost as much to you as finding out you’ve got a place at grammar school.
You love your onesies, hate having a shower and go to sleep far too late. Surely a child still at primary school should be asleep well before 11? Well before 10, in fact, but it doesn’t happen. You love reading. You get hooked on a series, devour it quickly, and then feel lost without it. It’s always hard to get you back into reading after that. You’ve just devoured Percy Jackson and you did Alex Rider earlier in the year. What next?
We call you ‘Dude’ because you are a dude. You’re cool. You might wear glasses, but you’re so far from the stereotype of a geeky, clever kid. You have so many other amazing qualities.
You have had yet another brilliant year. You have had 11 of them. I am looking forward to what the next year will bring for you, and for all of us.
Happy birthday my brilliant, big, funny, clever, amazing 11 year old boy. I love you so much and couldn’t be prouder of you if I tried.
Mum Mummy xxx