My son’s clothes no longer fit on the children’s coat hangers he has in his wardrobe.
They slip off and clutter up the wardrobe floor; almost acting as a stark reminder that he’s not a child any more every time we open the door.
His shoulders are broader. How did that happen? When did that happen? Almost overnight I noticed that when he hugs me he’s no longer the small, bony boy I’m used to.
He is filling out, sprouting up. He’s on the verge of teendom.
I can no longer fit two of his tops side by side on the clothes airer, like his younger sister’s clothes do.
They look huge; like they belong to an adult.
I used to be able to fit a whole top on the ironing board and have it done in a couple of flicks of the iron. Now it requires manoeuvring like his dad’s tops do.
Clothes that used to swamp him, now strain to contain his long legs.
Pyjamas that had to be turned up several times to stop material catching under his feet, now flap just above his ankles.
He’s a shoe size 5; that’s just a couple of sizes off my own.
He fills his clothes.
He still wants his mum to lie on his bed and read to him at night.
He still wants a kiss on the forehead. To hold my hand (when no one is looking).
He still tries to curl up on my lap like a huge dog which has no idea of it’s size.
My boy is an inbetweener – no longer a child but on the verge of being a teen.
And that’s exciting and sad in equal measure.
For those looking for the Gallery theme today, I’m having a week off while I go gallivanting this weekend. If you can indeed call camping gallivanting.
I will be sat in a field with a glass of cold cider and a whole bunch of friends while the kids run wild and free. THAT is what I shall be doing!
See you next Friday for a new Gallery theme x