Second time around...

The firsts are fun, and sweet, and proud -
But second time round - Oh, second time round -

She's worn her first toothbrush down to a stub,
And her first shoes are lying outgrown on the rug,
And her first highchair's unused, discarded, upstairs -
Because she's sitting now in great grown-up-girl chairs.

Her first socks were tiny, and sweet, and petite -
Her second show she's got her mother's big feet.
Her first coat was fragile and soft and so warm-
Her second coat's strong enough to come to no harm.

The first are adorable. The seconds are cold -
My baby girl proving that she's getting old -
She's bigger and stronger, not practising now -
She needs all the seconds because she knows how.

A real fork with prongs and a real metal spoon
And real grown-up dinner and a real grown-up room
A real grown-up walk to the real grown-up shops
And a real baby cuddle when the growing-up stops.