Having my Apron Strings Cut

A lot has changed in Sebi over the past couple of weeks since his birthday and he is not afraid to share it.  There have been a few pleasing mealtime moments where he has poked in one, previously scorned carrot or piece of cucumber and then told us quite definitely, with a look of wonder as to why we are surprised:

"But of course, I eat carrots/cucumber now, I am FIVE."

Oh, of course, silly me.  His Top Hat teacher had the same experience when she tried to help him undo his tap shoes, as she does every week.  She told me that he looked at her extremely scathingly as he delivered her the same line.

I can't say I have noticed huge changes in my life since turning thirty-seven from thirty-six, but maybe the leaps are less great these days, or maybe I'm not trying hard enough.

My baby does not exist anymore.  My Mum told me the other day that Sebi had confided in her that he needed Mummy to stop calling him 'her baby' as he really was, most definitely, five now.  He had a long discussion with me the other day as to whether he needed to change from being called 'Sebi' to 'Seb' now that he was a year older.  I thought it was probably unnecessary, and could become a little complicated.  He could then become 'Sebastian' when he was six but I think by the time he hit ten we may well have run out of suitable variations.  I think I may have to knock 'Sebi-Woo' on the head however...

I went to Sainsbury's to buy a new rucksack after Uni today and had a moment of nostalgia that a year ago I would have plumped for the 'Thomas' one without a second thought but today I had to weigh up the relative benefits of 'Spiderman' versus 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles', neither of which are particularly my areas of expertise.

I'm beginning to realise that I'm not always top of Sebi's list now in every single part of his life.  This should be no rude shock, I know, but I have had five years of being THE person who must be on his team/first person drawn in his picture/last person he sees at night and first person he sees in the morning.  These days it isn't quite so crucial.  Don't get me wrong, I don't think there is anything attractive about Mummy's boys but I was just expecting the cut to be slightly more gradual...  I'm bracing myself for no more kisses on the lips and lap-sitting becoming a distant memory.

I know however, that we are still peas in a pod in so many ways.  When I picked him up yesterday from Top Hat, straight after my MA, I couldn't help but think that the things he was poncing about doing at 5 were pretty much the same things I had been poncing about doing half an hour earlier at 37, and apparently I'm getting a clever degree for it...

I decided to practise his songs with him in the bath when we got home and launched enthusiastically into the chorus of a 'High School Musical' number.  Instead of joining in, Sebi eyeballed me and asked me fairly politely if I could 'be quiet as it sounded better with just him singing', you've got it, because he was FIVE now...