An Actual "Mummyblogging" Post.

When I am out in public and I hear the sound of a baby cry, I feel like Hawkeye in Goodbye, Farewell and Amen. When he's getting therapy from Sidney in the crazy house, talking about the chicken on the bus. Except the chicken wasn't a chicken at all, it was a baby. And it wouldn't shut up.

And I look at the baby and will it to shut up. Then I get this huge sense of relief that it's not my baby, and I don't have to take care of it.

I look at Rocco all the time, and marvel at the boy who replaced the baby. I ask him, "Are you a baby, or are you a big boy?"

He looks at me - through me, with those blue eyes, and always says the same thing.

"My baby." Pointing at his himself with his chubby hands. And we both laugh. Then we hear Dave from the other room. "HE'S A BIG BOY!"

He doesn't have a dummy anymore, or a bottle. He talks in sentences, loathes the stroller, and loves to start the day with a "chocolate chino." (Warm milo.)

He finally sleeps through the night. Praise Jesus and all the Saints, he sleeps through.

I can never seem to kiss him enough. I'm still a little scared of him.

::

Max performed two hip hop dances at an outdoor recital last week. I took a billion photos, my heart bursting with pride. He had a sports carnival yesterday but hurt his knee in the long jump. I took him the biggest bag of hot chips I could buy, his friends surrounded him like flies.

He is saving up to buy a new gaming console, so far has $25. We haven't decided which one yet. I tell him how I was the Atari Queen when I was a kid.

"Oh yeah mum. Back in your day."

Last night we both went to see Toy Story 3 together. I wept, towards the end. At the letting go, the growing up. The magic being passed on.

I cried so hard, like a chicken on the bus.

::

Tim turned eighteen yesterday. Walking into the kitchen I looked at him really hard. "You're a man!" Hugged him tightly, wrote on his card that even though he didn't come from my belly, I couldn't love him more than I do.

Last night we had roast lamb and a carrot cake, then he went to the pub with some mates. After the movie, Max and I did a drive-by of the pub and watched Tim in the beer garden pretending to fight, all excited and silly. I couldn't help myself .... I got out and asked if he needed a lift home. He threw his arms around me. "EVERYONE! LOOK WHO'S HERE!"

He sat in the back seat with his best mate - REEKING of booze. I ordered everyone to wind their windows down, and got him home safe. One night down - 6,758 to go.

Today he has gone to play paintball with Dave and a whole heap of friends. I couldn't think of anything worse.

Tim took all the photos for my last post. When I got the slow cooker out of the back of my car, I picked a nice quiet street and told him I needed his help.

"Oh my God. There's something wrong with you Eden!!"

"I KNOW."

And we all laughed, Max and Rocco watching on from the back seat, sucking on the lollipops I bought them as shameless bribery, their big brother taking photos of mummy holding hands with a kitchen applance.

::

I didn't know I wanted this life until I had it. I'm not sure if I can ever let it go.