Wednesday, 18 November 2009

Down the steps we go...

Sproglet trundled down the steps to nursery, proudly displaying his spanking new bit of tat. A platic watch that came free with those clever magazines who offer new and improved tat every week. Sproglet always zeros in on them, determined that I will buy them for him - all because of a tacky silver phone or crappy little ball game that they offer on the cover - a beacon to his tiny desires. He is powerless to resist the pull of the tat!

He wandered inside, surveyed the scene; several girls dressed as princesses - all pink satin and bits of net, a few boys brum brumming with trucks and a couple of hungry monkeys snacking on crackers at a table. His big doe eyes peered up at me and he didn't let go of my hand. My stomach lurched down a rung or two. I took off his coat and I we hunkered down to take of his shoes. As I unpeeled the velcro, I smelled his freshly washed hair. His soft curls tickled my face. I held him tightly to me, not wanting to let him go. I stood up and he held on to my leg, hiding his little face behind me. 'Mummy... ' he began. He had no question, he just hoped his chatter would keep me there.

I tried to show him the trucks, the games, the kids. Still he clung. Then just as I thought I'd be there for good he suddenly sprinted off, in search of a chum. I called his name, hopeful for a parting kiss, but he was immersed in a show and tell, his watch thrust in front of some child's face as he talked about it with glee. With a heavy heart I climbed the steps back towards my car. I didn't want to leave him. Every day brings new words, new discoveries, new joy - and I miss it. Some days, whiney, tired grouchy days, I am happy to descend the steps, but other days, like today, I don't want to drop him there. I want play time, and fun time with him.

Tonight we read a tale of two guinea pigs called Bob and Brian. It's a tear jerker for sure - Bob is bought by someone and leaves Brian all alone - and devastated - until Brian gets bought - by the same kid. Thank god it has a happy ending. We read a favourite: 'Room on the Broom' and he giggled and tried to say all the words. It is our time together and every night I treasure it. We finish, I place the books back on his shelf and he curls under his covers, awaiting his goodnight kiss. We rub noses and I note another freckle, how his hair hangs over his ears. Its getting long. He's getting bigger every day, his little life racing on and I get so few moments. He strokes his duckie and turns on his side, always easy to go into a slumber.

All too soon we'll be descending the steps. As I watch him sleep the only thought I have is that I am looking forward to April when we won't need the steps any more...

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I feel the same way except my toddlers a girl and doesn't want buzz lightyear she wants everything advertised in the adbreaks on five in the mornings. Everything. I yearn to write too. I grieve for the loss of me premummydom. I'm scared of yummy mummies. Lovin your work. Drink on! Sxx

Anonymous said...

Nice one Mummy!