I had a disagreement with Mum late last week. She was adamant Grover’s birthday was today. I was equally adamant it was tomorrow. I had to check his birth certificate. Yes, it does appear, he was born on the 2nd of July, not the third.
I do not find it hard to believe this happened five years ago, becoming a mother to four children broke me big time for quite some time. If you want to really see the cold hard reality of new motherhood just go read any number of the posts I wrote in July 2007, it’s not pretty. To be honest, it makes me sad. I remember Grover arriving and me basically not being able to enjoy him, relax, recover or draw breath until I had a breakdown in May 2008. And even then that was hardly the kind of drawing of breath I had needed or imagined. Reading those posts I see how stressed I was, how tenuous my sanity must have appeared (and was) and how it was directly reflected in him. Poor little mite.
But here he stands, tall, brash, hilarious, stubborn, independent and wild. We’ve got a whole lifetime ahead of us but for some reason I feel like I’m finally drawing that elusive breath.