It was Small Sprogs birthday last week. He is a not such a small sprog now; (according to his sister) he swears like a trouper on the school bus, his upper lip has a slight shadow and he doesn't give out unconditional hugs any more (not to his mother anyway). Yet inside I know he is still the same Small Sprog; he still wants to know how many atoms are in an ant and he still imagines ridiculous scenarios at meal times - "What if a big dinosaur came down the road right now?..." -that sort of thing. Though his pre-teen self doesn't like to leave the sofa unnecessarily and all the best wishes he got on Facebook were from girls!
But I still love him as a small sprog and I still want to hug him, but that's not part of this part of the game now, hardly ever. Yet in one of his moments he will butter me up and tell me I'm the best mummy in the world; if he doesn't make guitar hero I reckon car salesman is right up his street!
I know he is not mine, he is his own person, I do not own him but I am borrowing him until he can make it in this world on his own. Sometimes it's hard.
For his birthday we took him Go Carting, it was brilliant. After that all his friends came back here and whiled away an hour shooting each other with Nerf Guns before eating their own body weight in pizza and birthday cake. As I lit the candles on the cake Tall Girl hissed at me: Don't sing! (God forbid I do something dreadful to embarrass her) However I had already checked myself before her stage directions had left her lips; he was 12 now, he certainly didn't want his mum singing 'Happy Birthday' to his friends did he?
So as I approached the table, holding the cake with the lighted candles in front of me, one of his good friends burst into song: Happy birthday to you. He wasn't embarrassed I thought, how brilliant, it's still perfectly acceptable to sing 'The Song' when you are about to be twelve years old. We all sang together, however I'm under no illusions that they may well be singing far more risky songs together in the future and I definitely won't be party to those!
6 comments:
Happy birthday to your nearly teen!
My youngest is still only 11 - but we are rapidly hurtling towards two teens in the house (God help me). My lot all still sing Happy Birthday - it's probably scarring for them for life, and they'll look back and say 'do you remember we used to sing Happy Birthday to keep Mum happy?!' :D
Happy Birthday to Small Sprog :) x
Is he - nearly a fully grown sprog now?... Happy birthday to him
I'm glad he is still working on the atoms in an ant problem... it has remained on my list of "shite to answer before the bus hits me" along with "why do people listen to Buble?" and "If a train is popular why to Southeastern Trains remove 6 carriages from it every other day?" you know the real problems of the age - to hell with the Higgs who cares... well Prof Butterworth does and speaking of which I ought to read that email he has sent me...
It always amuses me that kids of a certain age get paralytically embarrassed if their parents do something "inappropriate" or "unfashionable". Being accepted by their own age group is all that matters.
A belated Happy Birthday to Small Sprog! I can identify with your feelings as my oldest grandson turned 12 last fall--oh my, that does make me much older than you, doesn't it:) All of a sudden he has grown almost as tall as his older sister and developed broad shoulders. He's not as apt to hug me as he once did, but he is as sweet as ever and has such a funny sense of humor. I think he and Small Sprog would get along famously!
Happy Birthday to Small Sprog - such funny years, when they veer between being quite grown up and virtually being babies the next minute! I know what you mean about the hugs - definitely uncool unfortunately!
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