Month of Firsts – May 2017

Here we are again, time to round up all of your firsts for another month.  Harry, there is so much that you got up to this month that I have had to pick my favourite moments or this post could turn in to War and Peace.  I started this series of posts because I have a type of epilepsy that affects my short term memory.  Quite simply if I don’t write it down I forget it.  I don’t want to forget the moments that have brought a smile to my face, those that pulled at my heart strings and even those that left me wanting to rip my hair out in frustration.  Here is what you got up to in May, starting with my favourite one – possibly of all time:

• Had your first school sports day – it was a day I was looking forward to and dreading in equal measure.  On the way to school I was cursing myself for the fact we let you win at EVERYTHING.  24 hours beforehand I came out with all the usual clichés “Mummy and Daddy are really slow and that’s why you win at everything”, “there might be bigger boys and girls that can run faster but you will still be my winner no matter what”, and “as long as you do your best I will be a very proud Mummy”.  Damage limitation.  The reality of someone beating you at something – and the consequences – hit me like a brick.  Unfortunately you are built like me, which means at shot-put you should beat everyone hands down, but sprinting may prove a bit of a challenge!  Under starter’s orders you all lined up like it was the 100m Olympic final.  And then you were off.   At least you were.  You flew out of the traps.  All I could do was laugh and say repeatedly “Oh my god, he is in the front, Oh my god” as it was so unexpected.  I even forgot to take any photos such was my shock.  You comprehensively beat the rest of the field!   The text to your Daddy,  reflected my shock and pride.  “He won, he f***ing won!” was all I could muster.  To my shame not exactly the words of one with a university education. The next one was called “The Frog Race”.  In a nutshell you had to run and pick up a bucket and then run and collect a frog and then throw it in to the bucket and sprint to the finish line.  I have no idea where you practiced your technique because whilst the others stopped to pick the things up, you managed to scoop everything up in one motion.   You could have crawled over the finish line there was that much day light between you and the one in second.  I’d actually fished out an old trophy the night before – as part of the damage limitation exercise – and when we got home I gave it to you, this time not for taking part (as was the plan) but as The Winner.  You beamed with pride.  As you went to bed that night and reflected on your achievements you told me you won “because I ate all my pasta last night Mummy and I had Weetabix for breakfast”.  The food of champions.
  • Note:  The one disappointment was that there wasn’t a parents race.  I’d been looking forward to it.  I had even put on flat shoes and worn a supportive bra.

• Went to a festival – with me and Taid Bobby.  It was the first time I had been to one as well.  There were lots of firsts for us, such as being chased by a dinosaur, stroking a snake, dancing with Super Heroes, scrambling through an assault course, and going to the circus.
• Went on a helter-skelter – also at the same festival, but this one has to be called out separately.  The minute you spotted it you wanted to see nothing else or go on anything else.  I was cursing your Daddy for not being there as I knew it was me that would have to take you on it – there was no escape.  I HATE heights, and walking up a rickety, dark structure, that appeared to have no obvious safety arrangements did not fill me with a warm glow.  The first time we went up I had white knuckles and could feel my heart beating out of my chest.  At the top you tried to haul yourself up so that you could see the view from out of the open windows.  Only then did I display my fear by letting out a shriek.  Thankfully you didn’t notice but one of the other parents gave me a re-assuring smile and patted my hand.  By the 4th go I was starting to relax a little.  By the time we dragged you away from there – 6 goes later – I had exceeded my daily step count, worked off my lunch, and had a heart rate somewhere near normal again.
• Decided on your career path – not sure there is much call for a bean-stalk climbing sweet shop owner but I am not going to be the one to dash your dreams.
• Went on a family package holiday – I’ve never been on one before and I can’t say I am rushing to go on another.  I was glad we went with friends so that you had your best friend to play with and we had other like-minded parents to drown our sorrows with.  We had a few teething issues at first – a 3rd floor room, outside tiled staircase (we could hear your flip flops screeching as you took the corners at 50mph) and a tree an arms length from the balcony, all of which added together spelt disaster.  Reception weren’t very accommodating with our first request to move, but after a few drinks (us not you) we taught you how to limp, and then concocted a story that you were recovering from a leg injury and struggling to get up and down the stairs.  By 10am next morning we had moved.  Miraculously that leg didn’t seem to bother you when you were busting some moves on stage later that evening.

I know we tell you not to tell fibs, but sometimes it pays too.  You’ll know exactly what I mean when you become a parent yourself.  Trust me.

Love you