My first-born and only son turns fifteen today. Fifteen.
Fifteen whole years since he was born. As if my birthday on Monday didn’t make me feel old, this makes me feel bloody ancient.
It only feels like yesterday that we were bringing him home from hospital. Such a cliché, I know. But now he is literally towering over me. A fully blown smelly teenager in a flash of the eye. So many milestones have passed, so many are yet to come. Birthdays are always so bittersweet as a parent I think. You can’t help but lament years gone by but at the same time, you burst with pride at the person that they have become and are yet to be.
Fifteen years of making it up as I go along. Fifteen years of keeping him (more or less) in one piece. Fifteen years of crossing my fingers and hoping that I’ve got at least some of this parenting thing half right. Fifteen years of unconditional heart swelling love.
Happy birthday Harvey x