Eight is the magic number

No, this isn't some an admission that I'm pregnant with quads, or planning on adding to my family in any way.  Four is the magic number when it comes to children I think, but in other things, eight has always been my magic number.

I suppose it's because my birthday is on the 8th, and it's in October (which means eight, even if it's now the tenth month) and my year of birth has an 8 in it too (but more than that I'm not admitting).  Then Mahe was born in 2008 and Anja was born on the 8th of June, and weighed 8lb 8oz.  I'm sure that there are as many 'signs' that could make other number just as special for me, but I always decided that I liked eight, and so it's always been my lucky number.

8lb 8oz on the 8th

Last week my biggest boy turned eight, which seems completely crazy.  How can he possibly be that old already? I remember when he was born thinking that eight was so grown up, even though obviously eight year olds are still very much children, I still couldn't quite get my head around my little baby being that big.

Mr 8 before his haircut.

It's not as bad as turning five, although of course he's older than that, because it's not an age that's a real landmark, not like starting school or something similar.  I know that this is not startling new news, it's what everyone says, but they really do grow up so fast.  I look at him sometimes and wonder how he can possibly be so grown up, such a little person in his own right (and let's be honest; not so little these days) it only seems a few moments ago that he was a tiny little newborn.  At the same time though, I can't really get my head around the thought of not being a Mum, the way I once was.  It seems so long ago.

Eight years ago

He wasn't the only one to have a birthday last week, my other big boy was six the day before his brother was eight.  I think I may have said before, after having Kai, I'd said for a while that I'd like a two year age gap, I didn't really expect to end up with a gap of exactly two years though!

Mr 6 with a birthday pressy

Again six years old isn't as bad as turning five, this time last year I as a bit of an emotional mess about him starting school, but now that he's been there a year it's not so bad.  Of course I will have that all to go through again next year with another little person turning five.  It's never ending.

But for now it's all about birthdays, my big boys and the number eight.