Being the baby

On Christmas eve my baby finally decided it was time to get up and walk. At one day short of 17 months he was a bit behind the rest of his little friends, some of whom had been walking upright for at least 6 months.

Be he's a stubborn wee thing and nothing could convince him to take those first steps until he was good and ready. So we left him to it and waited.

But now that he's suddenly all two legs limbs good, four legs limbs bad, we had a bit of a realisation...

All this time, possibly due to the lack of perpendicular motion, I've kept him safely in the 'baby' box in my head. Of course, he'll always be my baby. But at the same age, his older brother was most definitely not a baby in my mind. He was a little boy, a toddler, a little person. Babyhood seemed far behind him.

So, is it a symptom of being the younger brother that kept my baby 'the baby' for longer?

Or was it just reaching the walking milestone a bit later?

Is he forever destined to be 'the baby' of the family? Mollycoddled and excused for minor indiscretions due to his position as the youngest member of the family?

Maybe it's because I know there will be no more babies. Am I clinging on to every last moment of babyhood because of this? Maybe I am. But in a world where children grow up so fast, is that such a terrible thing?

I can remember willing his bigger brother on to every next milestone, doing everything in my power to encourage rolling over, sitting up, independent feeding. But with my youngest...meh. I know he'll achieve these milestones in his own good time (his own good time, nobody else's).

What I do know is, there will be no putting this 'baby' in the corner if he doesn't want to be there. He might be blonde on the outside, but my word, he's a fiery redhead inside. The Viking is strong in this one.

Blonde exterior, Viking interior. He's a warrior for sure.