Thursday 10 December 2015

Little Boy

I've been ahead of myself and written up a blog recounting the protracted and somewhat tense negotiations this weekend in relation to Flossy's desire to ring Childline. Of course it's the same old same old and perhaps a little formulaic, a little too predictable. As it was unravelling and reaching it's head butting crescendo, her not me I hasten to add*,  I couldn't help feel that it was blogging gold. What a strange perspective.

But then I got a text whilst on my commute that knocked the wind out of my sails.

"How long was I in care for, I'm filling a form in for Uni'

It was Ginger.

I sat teary eyed in the carriage, how had that happened? How had that little boy 20 months old, totally besotted in equal measure with Mrs C, his new mammy, and Thomas the Tank Engine turned into this 6 ft tall man on the cusp of university and adult life. More than that it was a reminder that he wasn't always part of my life and he traveled a rocky road to our life.

I sent back the dates from the last century of the beginning and end of his LAC journey. A lifetime ago for him with no personal memory just secondhand stories from us and his big sister and pictures in a book.  I recalled the vulnerability and the strain I felt in those first years when we formed a family. The challenge of his initial disinterest in me and my failings, my mistakes and insecurities. How that thawed and I grew up a bit. Grew up a lot, I was 27 when he came into my life with his big sisters.

The memories flashed round my head, the days we did this and he did that, the fun the tears and the laughs. What a sentimental fool I was being, if it were not for the other passengers I would have wept.

The time has just gone too damn quick and I can't go back and savour the moments that the 44 year old me knows that the 27 year old me should have done. Of course that's the advantage of age and experience. So, it dawned on me that I've less than a year to savour with my little boy, I need to give my head a shake and slow down, pause the moments and be with my son. This man that I feel so proud of, not like me in so many ways, but such a part of me and my life.

Its a reminder to me that I need to slow down and savour the moments with all my children. Of course I exclude the Childline moments, maybe.

*In her defence I think it was accidental, though it still hurt.


  1. Thanks for this. It gives me hope and a reminder to stop and enjoy life with the kids. Even just the other day I looked at our youngest adopted son and was frustrated with the progress we were making with certain behaviors. Then suddenly I stopped and remembered the little toddler that came into our home scared to death. I could recall a toddler that couldn't form words and had 5 therapists meeting with him to catch him up developmentally. The therapists are gone. We have trouble getting him to stop talking and we have had so, so much fun along the way. There is always hope for the future but you'll miss the present if you don't mind yourself.
    Thanks Again for this.

    1. Thank you for commenting. As you say we often forget how far we've come and the milestones along the way. Yes, there's always hope for the future.

  2. Thanks for bringing this back in focus for me. Teary as a read this!

    1. You're soft as clarts, how can I judge you?

  3. Thanks, as always, for linking up to #WASO Al x

  4. Thanks, as always, for facilitating the #waso.

  5. I have no experience of adoption [I dropped in from NE Bloggers on FB] but enjoyed the glimpse into your time-travelling-induced moment of reflection.