growing up

Dear Diary,

It's hard to believe how quickly Michael is growing up. It feels like just yesterday he was a tiny bundle in my arms, and now he's blossoming into a curious and energetic young boy. Time truly does fly.

He's reached so many milestones already. His first steps, his first words – those moments were filled with so much joy and pride. I can still remember the look of determination on his face as he took those wobbly steps, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement.

Now, he's talking up a storm, his vocabulary expanding with each passing day.

But there are moments when I can't help but worry. Michael has always been a little different from other children his age. He's incredibly bright, often lost in his own thoughts for minutes at a time. I wonder what goes on in that little mind of his.

And then there's the fact that he never cries. It's not that he's emotionless – far from it. He's full of love and laughter, his giggles filling our home with warmth. But when faced with pain or disappointment, he simply retreats into himself, just going quiet and silent not speaking a single word for hours on end.

I suppose every child is unique in their own way, and Michael is no exception. He's my little boy.

As I write this, Michael is curled up on the rug in the living room, engrossed in a pile of picture books. His small fingers trace the illustrations, his lips moving silently as he absorbs the stories within. It's moments like these that I cherish the most – the quiet calm of our home and Micheal laughter echoing thought the house.

Each morning begins with the gentle rustle of sheets as Michael wakes from his slumber, After breakfast, we embark on our daily adventures – whether it's exploring the woods near our home, visiting the bustling market in town, or simply playing in the garden, he loves it.

But the thing which worries me the most is Michael's fascination with swords as it continues to grow with each passing day. It's a sight that both warms my heart and fills me with concern. At just three years old, he's already captivated by the art of swordplay, watching with wide-eyed wonder as his father trains in the yard.

There's a spark in his eyes whenever he sees his father wield the sword, a longing to join in the training sessions despite his tender age. And, much to my dismay, Robert indulges him, allowing Michael to join in the practice sessions, albeit with a wooden sword and under close supervision.

It's heartwarming to see the bond between father and son strengthen with each training session, but I can't help but worry about Michael's well-being. He throws himself into the training with such fervor, pushing his small body to the limit until he's left panting and exhausted. Sometimes, I have to intervene and insist that he take a break, but even then, he's reluctant to stop.

I know that it's natural for children to be curious and adventurous, but there's a part of me that wishes Michael would slow down and enjoy the simple pleasures of childhood. Yet, I can't deny the joy that lights up his face whenever he's engaged in swordplay, the sense of accomplishment he feels when he successfully mimics his father's movements.

Perhaps I'm worrying too much, as mothers often do. After all, Michael is a resilient and determined child, and I have faith that he'll learn to balance his love for swords with the need for rest and relaxation. Until then, I'll continue to watch over him with a mother's protective gaze, ready to swoop in whenever he needs a gentle reminder to take care of himself.

With love and concern,

Lily.