Last week my friend Kelly at Debiehive wrote about missing the days when her babes were small and how taking parental advise for strangers wasn’t always bad. And by all accounts she’s right. We may not want to hear from the weird stranger in the park telling us to smile and enjoy it and it gets better when we’ve been up all night with a teething baby or we have sore boobs from feeding or cracked nipples or our child has thrown themselves on the ground for the gajillionth time today. But they have a point, it does get batter but it also goes so fast, so don’t wish it away.
It made me think back to what was my favourite time? I know it wasn’t those early hour feeds, getting out of a warm bed to a sqwarking newborn but wait, maybe it was, just me, the boob muncher and Jessica Fletcher solving crimes at 3am. I still get a warm feeling when Murder She Wrote comes on tv. It was calming and nice and all for me.
It could have been when they started walking, watching those pudgy legs wabble across the floor… knowing that life just got a little bit harder because the kid was NEVER where you left them. Always finding new mischief.
Sending them to school was a great stage, having some freedom and time to myself was an awesome feeling.
No kid is ever the same. They do different things that stick in your mind forever but so much of it is also forgotten. Going through the photos reminded me of so many things.
Every stage is precious and hard at the same time but you’ll never be there again, with that child. Even when you feel washed out or overwhelmed, remember why you’re doing it and how much love having these little munchkins brings. And grey hair and cellulite and …. (no stick to the positive…. ) They bring us delight!
We’re heading into the teen years and that’s a whole other set of ‘pass me the bottle’. I’m dreading it and looking forward to it at the same time. I know that sounds strange but I am interested to see their choices and who they become and where their lives take them. I’m not so excited about the arguments and probable groundings and late night worry…but I suppose it’s our turn, Lord knows we did it to our parents!