Harry was two this week and I can hardly believe it’s been that long since I was pacing around The Maelor anxiously awaiting the arrival of our first child.
Although we’d been to the antenatal classes, nothing could have prepared us for the changes that were about to happen in our life.
And while the panic of those first few days has subsided – remembering to sterilise everything and trying to work out how to fasten a nappy successfully – our life has changed beyond recognition.
On Tuesday Melissa, with me helping out, spent the evening baking a train-shaped birthday cake. Then we had to decorate it – another first for me.
It was worth the effort though. Watching Harry blow out the candles before jumping up and down and applauding was magical, as was his cheeky grin after he’d managed to grab a chocolate wheel off the cake before we’d had chance to put it out of reach.
In fact, the whole of his birthday saw Harry in a state of high excitement. From the moment he opened his first present until the departure of the last visitor at about 6pm he hardly stopped – with the exception of an hour-long nap in the morning.
We took him to an indoor play area in the afternoon where he played happily for a couple of hours, climbing, jumping, and flying down the slide as fast as he could.
As if to emphasise just how grown up he is now, he didn’t need any help climbing the play equipment, although he did want one of us to wait for him at the bottom of the slide.
Watching him interact with the other children reinforced the impression that he’s now a little boy rather than a toddler. There was one particularly cute moment when he took a little girl’s hand and tried to persuade her to race him down the slide. She refused, which prompted a brief frown from Harry, before he hurled himself down the slide again, squealing at the top of his voice.
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