A poem for Xander

A poem I wrote for my son when he was one year's old.

A Poem For Xander

I'm greeted with bleary eyes and a toothless grin
when I stumble in,
armed with a bottle.

'Isn't he small?' they say,
Big enough for me as I haul him away
from the oven, the printer and the cat litter.

He sings in the car,
Plays guitar,
But won't let go while walking.

He joins in with conversations,
laughing with people at the next table,
Until he forces them to coo.

'Does he eat well?'
Yeah, when he's not smearing it in his hair
or throwing it on the floor, laughing gleefully.

He crawls like a pro,
Constantly on the go,
But always comes back for a cuddle.

'Time will fly by' just seemed like something people said as I wave my baby in their face for the obligatory 'aww'.

But this last year has felt like a film on fast-forward as I cling to all the memories I can, while happily awaiting more.

Love,
Mummy