Saturday, May 21, 2011

this boy

He's four. Five in September. He's my baby.


In a post bath-time snuggle on the couch, we had a little chat about Kindy he attended that day. There wasn't an awful lot of information. Boys. They start early I tell ya.

He offered a little gem of information in passing, as he left to play with lego and scatter them to the four winds.

He wiped his own bum at kindy.

Please take a moment to reflect on what an important milestone we have reached.

Actually, I have a feeling the little sod has been MORE than able to do this task for sometime, but just likes to yell at the top of his lungs from the toilet for me to come and do said bum wiping.

I probably should be sad that he is getting to be a Big Boy. But mostly I am so.very.pleased. Or I was, until yesterday (the day after kindy) he yelled again from the toilet. I think I am being had.

My baby boy.


  1. If it weren't so obviously impossible, your boy and my girl could seriously pass as related - they look quite alike!

    He's so grown up now :-)

  2. Sharon, My boy was exactly the same, screamed out the same words with bum in the air. My beautiful next door neighbour was baby sitting one day (her kids are in the 20's) and he yells this out to her to which she got a big shock seeing one bottom ready for wiping...I hear ya!!!!!

  3. What a beautiful photo of him Sharon. How could you not wish to wipe his bum?!?
    Mine were all exactly the same, it seemed quite a rushed job teaching them to be self-wiping before pushing them off into the big world of school.
    Yes, while they do grow up too fast, there are some memories that are best left as such.

  4. In my experience which admittedly is possibly limited, if there is a woman around willing to do something for the boy, feed, dress, wipes bums, clean up after etc, the boy will take up the opportunity, where as girls seem to desire more independence. It seems boys are happy for a female to do stuff for them, and that means big boys too! My nephews still hold there arms out to get dressed, and don't care what they're being dressed in, while my girls haven't let me anywhere near helping them since they were two. Boys are happy to be 'looked after'...forever.


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