The Graduation of Horatio Umberto Wooganowski

For quite a long time I allowed my oldest son to believe that his true name was Horatio Umberto Wooganowski, partly because I am batshit crazy, and partly because I like the way it rolled off my tongue. Over the years, I had to speak to teachers about his name, as he had convinced not only himself, but others that this was his true title. His school photos came labelled with Horatio. Even though I set him straight some years ago, it kind of stuck.

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Baby Horatio

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First Day of School Horatio

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Totally massive, sports addicted, sneaky snuggler, forever eating Horatio

This boy. This boy that I made in my guts grew up, apparently in the blink of an eye. And in his final few days of Primary School I can see he is just so ready for the next adventure.

“I am so over year 6 Mum…” He says.

Man, I can remember thinking the exact same thing. This is me, off to the Year Six Farewell. Butter? Mouth? Something something?

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Yes, those hose had spots on them. I loved them. At this point in my life I had decided that I was going to be a writer. Sure, it took me thirty years to get there, and I went down all sorts of paths before I could call myself one, but I still firmly believe that you cannot be a writer unless you have lived a little. Can you believe I went to the hairdressers for that do?

So my darling Harry, who is basically my twin, is going to graduate from Primary School and start the next chapter of his life. His ultimate goal is to be a professional tennis player.

“What are the chances?” he quite often asks. And I tell him the truth….

That if you stick to something long enough and slog your guts out, you will eventually get there in the end.

And it turns out she was a Mummy Blogger after all…