Oh my little ones are growing. Again. I’m hit full in the face with the passing of time as you take the next step; the next stage. Constant worry: are you eating? Are you growing? Are you putting enough weight on? Then: oh you’ve grown, where’s my tiny baby gone?
Today was wardrobe update day. My girls’ wardrobe now holds 3-4 year old clothes. My brand-new, tiny (or so I thought) baby is now in 3-6 month old clothes. In the past, with my eldest, I’ve always found updating her clothes therapeutic and felt the excitement of what’s to come. With my youngest, I’m hit by the speed of time. She’s no longer a newborn. She’s so capable now. My clever baby who’s keen to sit up, laugh at her sister and get moving.
As I begin to sort her clothes, I’m bowled over with memory after memory of my big one in these clothes. The milestones she met while wearing them and firsts we all had as a family. Now I’m overwhelmed by the lasts we’re experiencing as a family and the whole things hits me deeper. If all goes to plan, I will never again have a newborn to snuggle or the experience of getting to know my own brand new human. I will never again have the first week haze of sheer exhaustion and adjustment.
Instead I have a host of new firsts to come as my girls grow into these new clothes. The first time my youngest crawls to her sister. The first time we wave our eldest off at the school gate. The first time they play together and don’t need mum quite as much. Their first whispers together about exciting games or, more likely, the mischief they’re planning. And although I shed a few tears today, I cannot wait for the many more firsts we get as a family of four.
Parenthood: what do you know? 