Six Good Figs: I owe this one to my Ashton Charlie

When my man had his birthday this year I blogged about him. Because he's pretty fabulous. And birthdays are a great time to acknowledge that and be thankful for special people in your life. I decided then that I should blog for each of my five boys' birthdays. But my little one had celebrated his a couple of weeks prior (and two more are looming), so this one is a catch up...

Where to start about this boy? This sunny boy.

Perhaps with the decision that led us to him? My husband desperate to have another babe. Me: "Are you sure you don't just want a girl, because we WILL have a boy!"

Or maybe his birth? Dramatic. A little acrobatic boy - head next to his foot (try it now?) - cord wedged between said head and foot. My first, my surprising, ceasar.

Perhaps the fact that we changed his middle name when he was two (or was that three?)! That one should probably be left for another blog...

The way I completely 'drowned' after his arrival. Four little boys at home - none at school yet! Those who were able - calling my name, wanting me to read books and get up off the couch where a baby was attached most of the day. All of them producing hideous amounts of washing. Needing to be fed. Nappies sufficient to produce an environmental crisis. Dishes everywhere. I cried. A lot.

My 'perfect', planned, controlled, world crumbled. Fast. Like it had never stood upright. I didn't like it.

Yet this boy, five years later, is pure delight. He gives the best cuddles I know. He talks constantly. He was happy enough to give up anything he should be playing with over the past few years (Thomas? Bob? Wiggles?) if it meant he could do what his three big brothers were doing. At the age of three, when I said "Mmmmm" in response to something he said, he would say "Not 'Mmmmm' Mummy, talking!" None of my other boys had ever noticed I wasn't listening when I did that. The way he sought out adults in the school yard to have a chat. His warmth next to me when we read together. The way he grooves. The night he was laying in bed and said, "I wonder what Beth will wear tomorrow. I think a skirt!" When I kissed him goodnight before heading out, he said "Wow, Mum, you look beautiful! What shoes are you going to wear?"

I love this boy. Ashton Charlie. A gift.