As of next week my little man is no longer a baby.
Okay, he hasn’t really been a baby for ages but on Monday my little 18-month-old boy goes into the next group up at his nursery.
No longer will he be a baby bunny, now he will be a toddler hedgehog – and I don’t know if I’m happy or not.
Every new word, new action and new milestone my little man takes fills me with excitement that he is growing and progressing well.
I love see the joy on his cheeky little face when he has learnt something new and is so keen to show me what he can do or say.
But there is also that little bit of sadness too that he is growing up, as well as the desperation that even at this age I want to make sure he doesn’t grow up too quickly.
Take mealtimes, for example.
It seems like only yesterday I was merrily scooping his yogurt into his mouth and helping get some mashed potato on to his spoon.
But now my independent man doesn’t need mummy’s help, thank you very much.
‘I can do it all by myself, mummy’ he may as well say as he objects to any help on my part to scoop up that last bit of food.
And now he wants to put on his own shoes and socks, and gets frustrated he can’t do it by himself and he needs my help.
Before I know it I’m sure he will be tying his shoelaces and heading off to school.
I know in the grand scheme of things, moving into the room next door at nursery is not the end of the world.
But it is just another little reminder that my little man is growing up fast – and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it.