Happy Birthday to my 5 year old son

Today is my 5 year old son's birthday.

What can I say about him to mark this momentous occasion?

My first two children were a boy and girl. People said that I had one of each so could stop the creation game. I was almost convinced myself and dutifully went along to the GP to discuss contraception options for the older woman. He was not happy for me to continue on the pill so aged was I and suggested one of those coat-hanger looking things. The coil - that's the one! I left saying I would think about it. Was vaguely suspicious of something called "Marina" or somthing. Last time I had come across one of those it was in Fuengirola.

One day coming home on the train, I had a cough and suddenly realised I was going to throw up. It was a commuter train with every square inch packed out. Suddenly a bloke saw just how green I looked and it was like Moses parting the waves. I made it to the loo in the nick of time.

That was when I realised I was pregnant again. I went to the same GP who thought it hilarious that the last time he had seen me it was about contraception. Various midwife visits followed with them getting increasingly alarmed as like that pumpkin thing, the baby grew and grew.

I had no idea how huge I was until about 2 weeks before the due date, I caught my reflection in a full-length mirror in a restaurant. Daunting to think that whoever was in there was going to have to come out.

My waters broke just as Coronation Street was starting on 1st November. I had not had this experience before but knew enough to know something was wrong. My Other Half summoned a taxi to take me to the hospital. I had no pains. Something was wrong.

I spent the whole night pretending to feel contractions just for something to do to pass the time. Various chemicals were pumped into me, various maternity pads inspected and disposed of. Somewhere in the middle of this David Blunkett resigned as Home Secretary. At least city hospitals have a telly to watch.

At 7.40am, the midwife said she had bad news. I did not see it like that and was glad that something was going to happen to remove the pumpkin.

My son arrived exactly twenty minutes later. Shortly before that (blame the drugs!), I was lusting after the Mel Gibson lookalike who gave me the epidural. Also reflecting that this was probably the only time that I would see shaving my bits as worth doing and not a deeply man-made and probably pervy suggestion.

I was tired and could barely stay awake as the midwife rubbed the baby up and down my face "to help you bond". He had a pair of lungs on him unlike my first two and looked like a pirate with a mass of dark hair. Later they weighed him with huge excitement hoping he would feature in the Sun or something. He weighed in at 11 pounds and 8 ounces.

I struggled to bond with him and wonder if that was because of the caesarean. I hated not being able to get to him when he cried. I felt useless. I also returned to work after 2 weeks which was way too soon but necessary I felt as my Other Half had been made redundant.

The bonding came the first time my son was ill. I thought he was going to die. The love surged in. I have adored him every since, some would say too much.

He is a full on, boisterous boy

He is a born peformer and comedian

He pulls the best faces

He is sensitive and can pick up on people's feelings

He is brave and bold

He eats for England, Scotland and Wales

He has held on to the baby stage longer than my other children and is clingier

He loves his Mum very much and she loves him right back.

Happy Birthday Big Boy