A/N : Just a drabble based on the latest pictures of Max Macmillan as Tim. Shelagh suddenly realises Tim is now taller than her.
When Shelagh first met Tim, he was small enough to fit in her lap. Tim was 5 years old and Patrick, or Dr Turner as he was then, had brought him in to get vacinations before he started school. Timmy had tried awfully hard to be a 'brave little soldier' but the needles looked scary. Too scary. The nuns had been helping out with the clinic, and it had been decided that perhaps it would be less scary if he sat on one of their laps, while Daddy gave him the injection, (as opposed to the other way around) as Daddy would never hurt him. The nun in question was Sister Bernadette. Small for his age, he sat on her knees while she spoke softly to him, trying to keep his mind off the task at hand. Tim was too young to remember the incident, but Shelagh could still remember his worried little face, and the way his free arm gripped at the front of her habbit.
The second time Shelagh saw Tim, was from a distance, at his mothers funeral. 8 years old, he looked tiny set against the backdrop of the stained glass windows at the front of the church. She knew the pain he was going through, and wanted nothing more than to reach out, give him a hug and tell him that it would be ok. But she couldn't, he didn't really know who she was, and she was a nun, she had to maintain a respectable distance.
When Tim turned up at the clinic that day with the scrapped elbow, it was the first time she had seen Tim since the funeral, and the second time she had spoken to him. He sat in his own chair while she tended to his cut, his feet she noticed, just about touching the floor. When they entered the 3-legged race a few weeks later, She noticed he had grown a little, and was now just shy of her shoulder.
Though Patrick had tried to his best to instill a sense of independence in Tim, since his first wife had died, and Tim, in the ilk of all 10 year old boys, determined to appear more grown-up then his was, Shelagh discovered soon after her marriage, that despite all that, Tim still did like to be mothered. Particularly in the privacy of his own home. He 'allowed' her to give him a kiss and a hug goodnight everynight, and was content to be babied everytime he felt unwell. It worked both ways Shelagh realised, as nothing gave her greater comfort than his spindly arms wrapped around her waist as he returned her hug, particularly in the aftermath of her surgery. Too grown up to sit in her lap, that didn't stop him cuddling up to her side while he watched the loan ranger, as she raked her fingers through his hair.
WHen you live with someone, Shelagh realised, or indeed when you see someone everyday, you don't always notice the subtle changes. Like when Tim came along to play piano for the choir, and no longer needed to ask for a boost to reach the peddles. Or the day they brought Angela home, and Tim held his sister for the first time, and Shelagh's fleeting thought that his jumper sleeves looked a little too short, was soon wiped out of her head by an overwhelming feeling of love and maternal love as she saw her two children together for the first time.
The first 2 months of Angelas life were a tumult of night feedings, lack of sleep, and adjusting to life with a baby and a nearly 12 year old. The world passed Shelagh by as she got to grips with mothering a new born. One night, a night that wasn't particularly out of the ordinary, Tim came downstairs post his nightly bath, to say good night. He reached out to hug Shelagh, when she was struck by the sudden realisation that his head was resting on her shoulder. She pushed back, holding him at arms length, and staring at him as if seeing him for the first time.
"Mum are you ok?" Tim asked, not quite able to grasp what warranted her odd expression.
Shelagh looked directly at his face and realised she was no longer looking down, but straight ahead, the pair almost nose to nose.
"You're taller than me!" she squeeked.
"No I'd say you're just about even" Patrick commented, eyes not lifting from the newspaper. "Give him another month though..."
"Oh that" Tim sighed, relieved his stepmother was ok.
"When did that happen?" Shelagh grasped. "You can't be taller than me.."
"Mum you aren't exactly massive, it was bound to happen one day.."
"But not so soon..." Shelagh exclaimed, before bursting into tears, and sitting down on the settee.
Tim looked at his father shrugged, and patted SHelagh on the arm. "There there love, nothing to uspet yourself about"
"Why is mum so upset?"
"I think mum is just sad to realise that you are growing up and aren't going to be her LITTLE boy any longer"
"But Mum, you have Angie if you want someone to sit on your lap!" Tim said.
"I know, and it's stupid, I just want my little girl AND my little boy for as long as possible." SHe sniffled.
"I'll still be here Mum" Tim, was confused. Women! It wasn't as if he was going anywhere sometime soon.
"It's ok son" Patrick nodded for him to go off to bed, "Mum will be fine."
"I can't believe I didn't notice!" Shelagh exclaimed after Tim had left. "I was too wrapped up in Angie! His jumper was up to his elbow practically"
"Shelagh" Patrick tried to calm his wife. "I didn't really notice either. Not until Tim asked to borrow one of my shirts the other week. His school uniform fits, thats the most important thing. His cubs jumper finally fits, as I accidentally bought it a few sizes too big. He's a 12 year old boy, he doesn't really care about clothes. Its not as if he is going around barefoot."
"I know...I just don't like the thought of him growing up so quickly!"
"Don't worry love" Patrick said, as SHelagh's tears finally dried. "By the time he is a moody 15 year old we will be begging for him to leave!".