My mum came to visit today. She wanted to see Harlow for her birthday, give her some presents.
It was a lovely visit. It always is with Granma. The kids love her. And she hung out some washing for me. Legend.
As she was leaving, I said, "Say goodbye to the one-year-old for the very last time!" and the moment the words left my mouth, I felt a sadness wash over me.
Tomorrow Miss Harlow is two and I'm so excited to celebrate her birthday. These past two years have been so incredible but they have flown. I mean really, really flown. Anyone with kids knows what this is like. And no matter how much you try to be present and tuck away what memories you can, it goes in the blink of an eye and you can never totally absorb it all.
I can't tell you where the time has gone except that it has been eaten up by joy, hysterical laughter and equally hysterical tears; exhaustion, anger, frustration and lessons learnt; milestones and moments and days that NEVER FUCKING END; love, love and more love; photos upon photos upon videos upon more photos and still the lingering regret of a particular missed moment.
And here we find ourselves on the precipice of our daughter's second birthday, her third year of life about to begin. She is our youngest, our baby and yet time is determined to leave that term in a flurry of dust behind it. Time is stealing our last baby away and I can't pretend that doesn't ache.
But it's not babyhood in and of itself that I will miss. I don't want to experience a new babyhood with a new child. No, I want the one's I've already lived through back. Take me back to 2007 and let me hold my first child again. Let me marvel at my beautiful Luca, the son I didn't realise how much I wanted. Let me relive those first glorious moments of becoming a mum. Then take me to 2009 and give me my baby Zig. Give me back that tiny, catnapping baby who made me so crazy and so crazy in love. Let me snuggle that precious boy with the luminous skin and cheeky smile. Let me watch Luca become a brother again. And finally, take me back two years, April 17, 2012, when they placed that dark haired beauty in my arms and it was finally true that I had a daughter. Take me to the moment when my heart settled because I knew that everyone was finally here.
To go back just for a moment and relive those incredible days, not to change them, just to experience them once more, would be heaven. To smell their little newborn heads!
Instead, I have now. Each day I determine not to miss it by worrying about inconsequential shit. It's a daily battle but I think I'm getting better.
In the morning, I will no longer have a 1-year-old. I will joyfully celebrate the reality of my 2-year-old daughter but a little part of me will be blue for the baby she's leaving behind.