He's still my baby

Wednesday, 16 July 2014

My biggest boy is seven. And too cool for school. Or is it skool? See, that's how cool I am.

Every day he seems to be that little bit more grown up and is becoming so much more aware of what his friends think and how to fit in.

It's inevitable I guess, but he's still my baby. Isn't he?

This weekend we were scooting along the seafront on our way to get an ice cream. Dylan has loved his scooter since he was tiny and is very confident on it. He's never used knee and elbow pads before, a point I made to my husband as he zipped off ahead of us. 

Just as I said "he's going pretty fast these days; maybe we should get him some knee pads…", he took a tumble.

He's fine but gave himself a fright and two scuffed knees. And he ran, as fast as he could, for a cuddle. And he wouldn't let go.

It's easy to forget that he's still a baby really. He's always striving to be a bigger boy. Asking when he can have his own TV in his room (never!) and when he can start having sleepovers with friends (again, never! 😆). 

Stop Dylan. Slow down. 

I love seeing him grow into such a lovely, confident and happy little man. But with every ounce of confidence and independence I lose a little bit more of his babyness (is that a word?). 

I'm looking forward to spending some quality time with my handsome little man over the summer holidays. Long walks, days at the beach, ice cream, cuddles and scooting to the park. But first, kneepads!

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