CAN you believe it, my little boy is three this week. I surely can’t.

I have no idea where the time has gone. I am sure it was only yesterday I was wandering around in the supermarket looking more than slightly dishevelled with yesterday’s tracksuit bottoms on.

Oh no, that was yesterday.

I know he is growing up, because he tells me so. Everyday he announces how he is “a big boy now” and asking: “Do you think I have grown?”

This mission towards being a “big boy” has been fuelled by a recent move from nursery to pre-school. He actually puffs his chest out when he tells people.

I swear he thinks it is only a matter of time before he is hopping in the car with his briefcase for a day at the office.

I wish he wasn’t in such a rush to grow up. He has been aware his birthday is coming up for a couple of weeks now and keeps asking for different things. Last week it was a bike, this week it is a skateboard, next week who knows…a helicopter? I think he is being inspired by the bigger boys around him.

We have moved in to a street that has the lovely sight of boys out playing on their bikes. He is in awe and sits at the window watching them ride up and down. The sooner he gets a pair of wheels the better – whether he will keep up with them is a different matter.

The move went rather well, Ben seems to have taken it all in his stride and doesn’t appear to be missing his old home at all.

Although delighted with his approach, I am slightly irked.

I spent several days decorating his nursery with an astonishing amount of love and care. As it turns out, he would have been happy with beige walls and brown curtains the whole time.