Growing older

Children, too!

Today my oldest turned 18.

Of course, I still remember the day he was born:

The chat my husband and me tried to keep up to try and distract ourselves.
Trying to read the paper; and keeping it as a reminder of that important day.
The sudden rush in the wheel chair from the ward to the delivery room.

The little face: a bit squashed, but so utterly fascinating that I couldn't stop looking at it.

And then he grew bigger, in little steps at first, then larger steps too: The first tooth, a first word, the first step, first friend, first school day, first sleepover, first rebellion with many more to follow...

And now, considered mostly an adult.
Many days I'm thinking: You sound so grown up!
Asking if I am okay.
Wanting to cook dinner for us all (maybe not the healthiest, but definitely tasty).
Buying school books for himself when he needs them.
Arranging to see his friends at times when it suits me best to do the driving.
Working out how to spend his money wisely (most of the time).

Later this year he'll be doing his final school exams. Then the plans for university; an independent future is beckoning...

I must be getting older at the same rate he is. After all, his years are just as long as mine. But while I have just got a little older, stiffer and with a few more wrinkles and grey hairs, in those 18 years he's is grown and developed from being our small, dependent baby son to being a friendly, independent adult person. He's not just mine any more, he is his own man.

Well, most of the time!