My four year old son is in love.
No. I am absolutely serious.
He denies they are simply friends. You see, he loves her.
Though I have explained that he is allowed to have friends that are girls, it doesn’t have to mean she is his girlfriend. But no; it seems that she is.
I have explained that sadly when we move away from Sydney (possibly on the cards in the not so distant future) he will find more lovely friends down in Melbourne. This was apparently fine, as he will hire a truck and move all his things back here when he is grown up and marry her. (Leaving his mother??! Who is this vixen?)
They are going to have a baby and my son wants to call my grandchild, ‘Noah’…? What????!!!
Well, what on earth is so special about this young lady?
It seems that she has a really lovely, small backpack. Aawww; my heart did a little flip at that.
Did I mention he is 4?
And so we know that love comes in many shapes and sizes. It can grow gradually or take the wind out of you at first sight. It can last forever or glow bright for one, wild heart burst. I am no love expert, but my little boy’s take on it was so simple.
Our 8 year wedding anniversary was this week.
Now I will not embarrass him by spilling out a big mushy spiel, but Lycra Legs still holds my hand and my heart. When we first started seeing each other, he had giant, bushy, caterpillar sideburns down his face and was months away from heading overseas on the trip of a lifetime. We promised that it would be “a good time, not a long time”; in fact I had that engraved on a travel clock I gave him when he went away.
Life rolled on.
I got an occasional postcard sent via my brother’s address, and a few crazy, fleeting (possibly drunken, homesick) phone calls from some random Asian phone booths for the next two Christmases. That was over 15 years ago.
He is far from perfect. In fact, I think I was grumpy with him over something this morning, possibly to do with cycling or washing or bills or the kids; you know, the usual stuff. But that smile that radiated for me from the top of the altar all those years ago still lights up my life, and he is like a flashing beacon to my lost and sometimes battered heart after a trying day when he walks back in the door at night.
My husband infuriates me when he tells me he has, “made something out of nothing”, despite taking hours to shop, cook and use every pot in the kitchen. He is obsessed with Strava and the Cycling Maven (don’t make me explain) and he likes to keep his dirty washing piled on the floor inside his wardrobe.
But without him, I would never have had the courage to travel on airlines I can’t pronounce, actually try and learn to enjoy eggs (never tomato, my love; never going to happen) and learn that walking up a hillside in the fresh air with him by my side returns my sanity.
He is the father of my two wildly, incredible kids. Kids I never actually imagined I would have. Kids that push me to my absolute limits on a daily basis and remind me how love can stretch your heart thin and then snap it back with a shuddering heart quake. Kids that look like their Daddy with their little blue eyes laughing or crying back up at me.
Would I change anything? Yes.
But with him. I would always choose him.
Even when my husband is annoying me, my best friend is still around to make me feel better.
He is clever and handsome and fun to be around. Many years ago, after a zillion wines, my friends and I wrote a boyfriend ‘wish list’ and slept with it under our pillows. Some highlights from mine were : Someone who could hold his own in a room with strangers, a nice guy that I could giggle with, and one who who was smart and challenged me to be a better me. It worked. I found him.
So when my 4 year old announced to me that he was in love, I figured that maybe…just maybe…he had picked up on a little of the glow in our home. Maybe he has seen that we still kiss each other hello and goodbye, and look for each other when we are excited, down, or simply in need of a cuddle. Maybe he has seen what love is about, and thinks this is something worth having. Maybe. Maybe not. But I certainly hope this will be something he learns one day…if there is EVER a young lady who loves him like I love his Daddy.
Happy Anniversary, my love; let’s hold out for ‘a good time AND a long time.’
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