Too big for words?

So instead of it happening gradually, instead of me getting to a point where I've accepted his growth and maturity for his age, instead of me being ok with him no longer being little and cute and tiny enough to wear onesies, instead of me coping with the light speed growth of my one and only off spring in a slow, sort of wise manner, it has all crashed onto me like a tonne of the proverbial!!

He now, yet only in the past week, has done the following:

- gone into the cubicle of the toilet at the swimming pool, by himself, closed THEN LOCKED the door behind him, then got his dangle to aim appropriately, then flushed the toilet all with me hovering outside the cubicle feeling just a little bit redundant (although he did still have to tell me he was finished, making me still feel needed!)

- he has started saying 'What?!' with all the attitude of the majority of year 9s I've had the pleasure to love and adore. When I reply with, 'Don't say 'what' to me.' He retorts, with equal attitude, mixed with defiance and just a dash of sarcasm, 'Pardon?!'.

- he's told me that he doesn't want to tell me about his day. Nothing fun happened. He didn't play with anyone except Kade and 'No we didn't sing any songs on the mat!'

- he's stopped having day time naps, although he has seemingly inherited his grandfather's ability to fall asleep on the couch after work (read 'creche')

- the only accidents he's been having, touch wood, are in the aiming, not the timing. Yet I'm still the sucker that has to clean wee off the floor!

- he sings songs about Whiskey - Rye Whiskey, to be exact - ALL the time

- he may be a trainspotter (I'm not really saying that this is a sign of maturity beyond one's years, but he does talk about them ALL the time, as though he feels the need to fill the space with chatter about made up trains, not entirely sure what this means!)

- when I walked into the playground of creche and caught him chucking tanned bark around, he heard me say his name, IN FULL, dropped his handful THEN turned around, with a total look of 'busted' on his face!

- he is starting to figure out that some books are just crap - thank the deity - he has developed his 'discerning'.

- he asks me to change/repeat/turn the song up louder whence in the car

- he's a back seat driver, telling me to turn my blinkers/lights on, 'That man is driving VERY silly' and 'Turn left, Mama!'

- He's using mostly correct tenses, sentence structure and his vocabulary is growing remarkably! He now says - often, cool, 'like', nah, mate, totally and um

- his taste buds are fussy and boring but he eats ALL the time

- he's a veritable giant, with people assuming for his height he should be a) at school, b) at kindergarten, c) riding a bike/scooter or d) speaking more clearly

- he jumps into the pool, toes over the edge, arms out like a rocket in front of him and does the best belly whack you ever did see, swims under water and comes out all triumphant, with me nowhere near him.

- he got sent out of his swimming lesson and made to sit on the side of the pool for not having good listening ears on, even though we had a talk about this exact issue immediately prior to his swimming lesson. Twice. In one lesson.

- he still holds my hand but lets go as soon as possible after we get across the road, just a little bit embarrassed..

He's pretty much my three and three quarter year old teenager!

Things The Bean has said:

* When I said he should have a nap one afternoon.
TB: I'm not tired Mama, I'm just thinking with my eyes open..


* When the annoying woman was on the PA at the school across the road every 7.5 minutes on the first day back at school this week.

TB: That lady just told me to go to the office, again, but I don't wanna go to the office, Mama.


* When singing while I was in the other room.

TB: Old Mac Donna had a farm, E I E I O, and on that farmer he had a dinosaur E I E I O, with a ... ummmm...


* In the kitchen

TB: Mama you're going to have a baby.
Me: Ugh, thanks!
TB: What?
Me: Don't say what to me.
TB: Pardon?
Me: It doesn't matter, I'm not going to have a baby for a while I don't reckon.
TB: Yes, you can.
Me: It's kinda impossible, anyway...
TB: No, you need to have a baby.
Me: Right, well what baby do you want me to have? A sister or a brother?
TB: A baby brother, please.