I was having a bit of an edit here and there and looking at all the sweet photos of my chubby, biddable easy to manage tiny boy when Old Mum’s memory banks fired up and found this old thing that I wrote when Albie was 5 and had just moved into his own room. Now he is 10, I am having all the same feelings again. I really do hope this isn’t going to be a five yearly event with surges of painful nostalgia from now until I pop my clogs.

(Though I am sure when he is 15 I will hardly see him anyway and when he’s 40… well Old Mum needs to be a little realistic on longevity here…!)

How can simply turning five have such a huge impact on my boy! Am struggling this week with his surge of independence. No longer does a little hand seek out mine as we walk down the street – now he’s just a dot on the horizon, hunting out the next adventure.

There have been some factors. I finally finished his bedroom and he dived under his new London Underground duvet without a backwards glance. Now I wake to hear him reading books to himself from the gaping chasm of the landing. Three days ago I was still waking to a warm snuggly body next to me, a tickle on the nose and: “Hey Mummy, did you know what I actually dreamed about last night…?”

Last week he was still looking up at the older children’s assault course section with misty eyed longing. Yesterday he charged right up to the top and stood cheering himself before hurtling down to the ground.

Cuddles have halved and those I do get generally turn into wrestling matches.

I am sure these milestones will happen over and over again until he is a man. I have to learn that my place is moving now, away from the centre of his universe to a few paces behind him as he dances into his life.

But it is hard. So hard.

Albie loves to look at old photos of himself with me and I take great care to tell him he is just as sweet now, as he was when he was two. But oh goodness… being able to swoosh a little bundle into the air at the very first hint of a frown and switch his mood to complete joy in less than a second is something I miss very much. Now when the storm clouds threaten, there are careful negotiations and talks about “feelings and consequences” and if we can settle on a basic agreement of terms, it’s a good result.

This helped me then and helps me now (but still makes me very sad):