Piglet becomes Heffalump

28 Sep

I have never been one of those mothers to push my child to do things. “In his own time” is always my motto. I kept him on the breast for as long as possible and waited ages before introducing solids. I think I do this because I am aware that he is growing up way too quickly. Every new stage means he is moving one step away from being my little baby and closer and closer to being that teenager that hates his mother because she is sooo uncool. I want to savour each stage a little longer before it is over and gone for good. And each stage is gone before I know it. I wish someone could have told me when the “last moments” would be. I would have paid more attention. I would have paid more attention to the last bath in the baby bath. To the last breastfeed. To that last gummy smile before the teeth arrived.

We are getting to the stage where he is bathing in the big bath (a little far down the road I know, but it was winter and I didn’t want to move him into that cold bright bathroom while it was so chilly). So, no more close personal baths in his room with soft lighting and the music playing gently in the background. When I hug him I can feel the bones in his shoulder blades and know that he is less baby and more little boy. He now pulls his top off his head himself when we undress for bathtime. He is starting to feed himself. Soon we will be dropping the day time milk feed. He no longer wakes up at night at all. Who would have thought I would miss those cries. For a while he would routinely wake up about 3 hours after going to sleep with tummy cramps. I would cuddle him and sit with him for 5 mins and he would drift off to sleep again in my arms. Now he is sleeping right through for 12 or 13 hours. I miss those desperate cries for milk between 4:00 and 6:00 in the morning. I miss holding him and cuddling and soothing him at night.

And this week he has made the big move across from the Piglet (baby) class to the Heffalump (toddler) class at school. They now sleep once a day on mattresses on the floor. No more baby cots. No more bottles. No more food from mommy. School food only. Even though he is moving across earlier than most babies, I know that it is what is best for him because he needs the stimulation. I know this, but my heart still breaks every morning when I carry him past the Piglet class to the Heffalump room. In fact, most days I don’t even carry him anymore. He walks holding my hand. My little boy – already so independent. Not so long ago I was carrying him into school in his carseat.

I know the next stage will be the talking stage. I will miss the grunts and the babbles. The vocal “eh-eh-eh’s” accompanied with frantic finger pointing to get what he wants. Soon he will be like the other children in his class – asking “what’s this” every three seconds. I will miss this stage where he thinks mommy is the most amazing person in the world. I will miss the delighted look on his face when he realises that I have arrived to take him home. I will miss him running into the kitchen while I’m cooking and hugging my leg, “eh-eh-eh-ing” to be picked up. I will miss the way he clings onto me when I drop him off and the tearful con-artist meltdown he has when I turn around to leave the class room (I always stand outside to listen and it never lasts more than two cries after the door has closed).

I know that he will be saying his first words within weeks, and while I can’t wait to hear those first engaging words, I know that their arrival will mean that my little angel has just flown a little further away from me.


4 Responses to “Piglet becomes Heffalump”

  1. Nana Fi September 30, 2007 at 1:03 pm #

    This made me weep. I think back to when my children were babies, one now 30 and the other about to turn 25 and wonder where all the years went to. Cherish each moment with you little man!!! Nana Fi xx

  2. Sue October 1, 2007 at 9:51 am #

    What a sad post!!! Time does go far too quickly and each stage disappears in a heart beat. You do learn to cherish moments when you’ve got kids! Jake’s not even 3 1/2 yet, just 2 and a bit a head of Adam, but he knows what’s “cool man” (motorbikes & fast cars), what’s “disgusting” (dead things, poo) , what’s “revolting” (granny’s almond tart) – and, yes, he even uses these words in his daily ramblings. There’s not a thing that gets passed him and if I don’t want him to hear what I’m saying, I talk in Afrikaans, but I know it won’t be long before he understands that too. He’s forever asking me to show him how to tie shoe laces and what the time is and and what words say. It’s truely amazing to watch them grow and learn and we are so blessed to be their mothers. And they will always be our babies, no matter how big they get. Every man adores their mommy!!

  3. Sandra Green October 2, 2007 at 11:00 am #

    That’s why when we get older, we find ourselves longing to be grannies! We get to relive all of those pleasurable moments with our little grandchildren. And we don’t have to put up with all the not so pleasurable bits either.

  4. Family Life October 2, 2007 at 10:22 pm #

    Oh my goodness you have me balling my eyes out. Right now I am really looking forward to Amy’s late night feed and a cuddle. You are right Pia, and I am trying to cherish every moment as they do grow so fast. xxx

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