9 Months...

Saturdays have never been the same since you arrived. And that's okay. Your Dad and I needed things to be shook up a bit. 

And you continue to do just that. 

Every Saturday, since you arrived, I've counted the weeks that you have been in our lives. You have now passed that milestone; you've been out of my tummy longer than you were in it. You were born at 38 weeks and you've been out 39. 

Nine whole months of life with Oscar. 

People say that having kids is the most rewarding and difficult job all at the same time. 

All I can say is that, yes, it's true. But it's not a job. It's a calling. 

And the only difficult part has been saying goodbye to the me - BO (Before Oscar). 

Life Before Oscar - meant weekend lie-ins. 

Getting in and out of the car in less than 30 seconds. 

Eating at a normal pace. 

Uninterrupted sleep. 

Having a glass of wine when I walked through the door after work. 

Showering with the door closed. 

Peeing with the door closed. 

Roadtrips that weren't co-ordinated around nap-times or feeding times. 

Eating in restaurants with our crowd (post 8pm). 

Not the senior citizen crowd (pre 6pm). 

Not worrying about the bowel movements of another person (you in this case).

Not worrying about the fluid intake of another person (yes, you guessed it, you). 

Not worrying about you choking on a biscuit, a piece of fruit, or a stick of vegetable. 

Not worrying about your physical or mental development or 'milestones'. 

Not worrying.  

Not knowing the words to "The Wheels on the Bus" and other songs that all seem to have the same tune (what's with that)?

But now that you are here. 

And we can't give you back. 

Nor would we want to. 

We move forward and to a new version of us. 

Life AO - means constant change, adaptation and surprises. 

You surprise us daily with how much you take in - you're a little sponge. 

You can clap. 

You can dance. 

You can sit in the bath all by yourself (but never alone for a split second). 

You laugh all the time - laughter really is the best medicine & why you're hardly sick.

You find pure joy in the simplest things - bubbles, my hiccups, playing chase with your cousins, the washing machine, my hairdryer, sitting in the shower, dried mango and your dummy. 

And the only song that calms you down when you cry is "Incy Wincy Spider". 

Go figure. 

The adaptations happen all the time. You're too big for your Maxi-Cosi now and have moved into a proper forward facing car seat (your Dad cried when you sat in it for the first time). I buy clothes that are 12-18 months because you're growing out of your normal stuff far to quickly for my liking. And I'm already starting to think about putting things out of your reach as I know you're going to start crawling in the next few weeks. 

Life as your parents might mean saying goodbye to a couple of things but it's not permanent. What is permanent is you and the love we have. I never thought it was possible to love another person as much as I adore you. I miss you when you nap. 

And yes, there are days when you cry for no reason at all or you're just in a mood, having woken up on the wrong side of your cot. And I will you to just 'get over it' forgetting that you're only little. But that's how much of an impact you've had on me - your spirit is HUGE and I feel like I've known you my entire life. 

This is the most exciting phase of your life kiddo. And definitely the most exciting phase of mine. 

I turned 36 on Tuesday. 

And I cried.

Like you do when I take the last piece of your biscuit out of fear you might choke. 

Because on my birthday I suddenly realised that as I get older I'm moving closer to the end of my chapter but you're only starting your first book.  

Nothing makes you question your mortality more than having kids. 

But I wouldn't want it any other way. 

We love you Oscar. Always. And Greatly.