I don’t know why I refer to them as children, they’re now adults and I’m an awl wan.
Oh, for ‘Mericans reading this ‘awl wan’ is a Dublin term for mature lady. That’s me.
Eldest son turned twenty four this week. He’s a man, a great big redheaded man and I love the bones of him. Still after all these years I find it hard to believe, that they are my sons. I’m in awe of both of them, they can cook and operate a washing machine all without asking for any instructions.
All those years ago when I was pregnant I confided in a colleague that I’d be very pissed if this child arrived with red hair, not sure why I was worried about red hair, I don’t have red hair, his father doesn’t have red hair, actually nobody in either family has red hair. Think it may have been a premonition as they say.
27th January 1994 my redheaded son arrived. The popped this large hot slimy baby on my chest declaring it to be a boy as I recoiled in horror.
‘oohh it’s all hot and wet’
‘He is all hot and wet Mrs Smith’
That was it my life was changed forever. I would never be the same again, I would never love anyone as I loved this hot, wet child on my chest. He was perfect, absolutely perfect, he had the tinest hands he even had fingernails. I’m not sure why this was a shock to me but it was.
The took him away to clean and wrap him, that’s when I noticed, the ginger hair sticking up over the blanket.
‘Red, it’s got red hair’
‘He has red hair Mrs Smith’
It didn’t matter at all, red, black or blonde he was mine and he was perfect.
When he was still a toddler we would sit in long grass and eat figrolls together, I learned that cars made a ‘dush’ sounds when crashed on the sofa.
The years taught me how to build hot wheels car tracks and Lego men. I sang along, badly but I sang along to the ‘big blue bear’
I discovered Harry Potter and would look forward to reading to him at bedtime, by the time book three was published he could read for himself and I was made redundant.
Lego gave way to football and birthday present requests became a tad daring. At 16 asking for a stripper, he never did get one.
It’s hard to grasp how quickly the years have passed. But they did, turning my child into a man, a very tall man, prompting his father to ask ‘why is that child still growing’ as neither of us are tall, actually we’re both on the short side. As he reached six-foot his father asked was he our child, his brother was growing pretty quickly too at this stage so there was no need for any further questions.
So he’s a man making his way in the world, a different world to my world, for he’s adventurous, spending time in Africa taking pictures of lions and water buffalo. He’s easy company to be in, he’s funny, he’s bloody annoying and occasionally moody.
He’s my man son and I love him.
The Joy of Eoin