Whoa. Ok. I don’t know how to write this post without sounding like an annoyingly gushy, proud mother.
My two year old was playing quietly with his playdoh in the lounge room. I was washing the dishes in the kitchen, when I felt a tug on my jeans. “Mummy look! Cake! Candles! Blow!”
It was the first time he had made something on his own – using his own initiative and imagination.
I was speechless. In fact, I was so surprised that I just stood there dumbly, going wow.
I’ve never shown him that you can make cakes out of playdoh. Let alone pretend that matchsticks can be candles. Until this moment, he’s only ever made something because I made it first.
My baby’s thinking for himself! He’s becoming a person! A genius!
I sit here with a silly grin on my face, feeling like I’m the first mother in the world to watch a child grow up.