There's a reason the word boisterous starts with boy

Well, in this house there is anyway.

adjective

1.

rough and noisy; noisily jolly or rowdy; clamorous;unrestrained: the sound of boisterous laughter.

2.

(of waves, weather, wind, etc.) rough and stormy.

This is a good word for this little man, not all the time, but a good portion of it. His toy animals crash and bang, they often 'ead him all up' (whatever 'him' may be), the lounge room on more days than not is a swimming pool of cushion for diving into, which the cry 'I'm draining!' causes this Mama to smile lots. It seems to be a combination of the word drowning (which must be a little hard to understand when you're two or three) and his little boys wonderment and fear at watching the water go down the drain in the bath, where does it go?, 'Oh no, sharkie is draining, ged 'im!'. 

He wears googles in the bath and gets upset if there's not enough room for him to 'swim'. He jumps in mud and puddles and piles of leaves. He leaps off walls, climbs trees and washing lines (Hills Hoist), swings off chairs, climbs table and benches and yells at the top of his lungs. He roars. 

That boy o'mine, who so sweetly turned three last week, has this week, seemingly made the transformation from baby boy child to independant boy. There is always change, everyday something a little different from the day before, but then there are the quantum leaps. 

These are the ones that really make me swallow down that lump in my throat. 

And he's made one this week, he's lept and he ain't goin' back. He's only just three and there's a lot of time left, but could I just have one more day of two with little boy blue? 

Him and I, we had some time together this morning and we made biscuits. He did such a wonderful job with that stamp. He also enjoyed doing a terrible job with that stamp just so he could say 'Oh, no, all boaken, I'll hafta ead it.'

I've found myself unable to finish requests to sing 'You are my Sunshine', or 'This little light of mine' and being asked 'Mama, why are you sad?' 'I'm not sad. I'm happy to be singing to you.'

I've been told by many older and wiser parents that having grown up children is wonderful. The best. And I'm sure it is but right now I love the fact I can comfort them when they are sad or hurt, that they fall asleep in my arms, that they love to be held, to be their warmth and guidance, I love that we get to share in the discovery of so many of those new experiences.

There will come a time when all of this will change and I'm sure it will be right for each of us then but right now I'm rolling in as many of those moments I get.

(This post was written a few weeks ago however a few things happened around here and it didn't feel like the right time for these words. So here it, is a little late.)