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Photo credit: CP Photography
Next month, my tiny baby will turn three years old. She is no longer a jumble of miniature fingernails and nappies. Where her head was once only covered in a soft down, rubbed bald where she slept, she now has loose curls and a fringe.
Those bendy little limbs are now long and strong. Any hint of soft pudge has disappeared, leaving a gangle of arms and legs that almost fill the bath when she lies down.
My baby is no longer a baby.
This week I had one of those moments. You know the one: it hits you like a jolt and you see your child as they are for the first time.
In a second, the lingering fuzzy haze of the baby you once cradled in your arms is wiped out – Quantum Leap style – so that you have to blink to recognise the growing child who sits before you.
In that second, my mewling, red-faced newborn turned from this:
To this:
On the “phone” during a dinner date with her mum.
And, in that moment, I glimpsed the teen that she will one day become.
Scary really.
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This is a bumblebee I made with my toddler this week for her last ever tots’ music session. I wanted to make the effort to actually bother with the herculean task of crafting with a two year old, as this week felt like a bit of a milestone.
Not only has my toddler just had her last music session but, more importantly, she has had her last day with the two childminders who have cared for her, cuddled her and played with her since January last year.
Today has been a day of ends.
But, rather than feel sad for reaching the final twist of one journey, I’m going to focus on looking ahead to another. Frog has two weeks off over Easter and then it’s full pelt into nursery five mornings a week for the summer term.
Five mornings at nursery. Nursery. It seems so grown up. I don’t know how long this current stretch will last, due to our moving plans and various work commitments, but I do know she will both miss the last phase and enjoy the new one.
You blink and a year passes your eyes in an instant.
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]]>The post Childhood appeared first on Mother's Always Right.
]]>I thought.
And then I thought some more.
And then I thought again.
Every answer I came up with sounded incomplete and contrite. “Childhood means splashing in puddles”. Nope, not quite right. “Childhood means wallowing in unconditional love”. Well, sometimes – but it’s not everything about the formative years. “Childhood means….”
I mused on the subject during our week away and I drew a blank.
Until tonight, when I was scrolling through my phone for inspiration. For me, childhood isn’t about one thing. It’s about a whole set of things.
It’s about cold treats on a hot day.
It’s about searching for shells on a sandy beach.
It’s about breaking all the fashion rules. And not giving a hoot.
It’s about wearing Sir Elton John sunglasses. And, again, not giving a hoot.
It’s about walking hand in hand with your hero.
It’s about climbing frames and peekaboo.
It’s about rummaging through your mum’s jewellery box and stowing away the shiny things, like a magpie.
And once the day is over, it’s about falling into a deep and untroubled sleep, ready to do it all again in the morning.
***
This post was written as part of a blog hop organised by Merry over at Patch of Puddles, to raise awareness of the plight children are facing in West Africa.
Hunger and poverty mean they’re experiencing a very different childhood, going through things most adults wouldn’t be able to deal with – let alone kids.
Just £1 could make a difference. The charity World Vision has until 30th August to make the most of a matched funding scheme, which sees the government double every single £1 that is donated.
That money could put a glint of hope into the future for many of the children who’ve lost their childhood in West Africa.
And then maybe they’ll get to sleep the sleep of busy, playful children. The sleep of childhood.
***
If you’d like to help raise awareness, feel free to join the blog hop. Simply choose a picture you feel best represents childhood (as you can see, I cheated with more than one) and write about it.
Then include the link:
https://www.worldvision.org.uk/giving-forms/single-gifts/*/giftId/62/
And tag two more people to join in.
I’m tagging -
Then tweet about it, share it on Pinterest, G+, Facebook and any other social networks you use, using the hashtag #LostChildhood.
All entries will be pinned to the WorldVision Pinterest Board and the best entries will feature on their blog too.
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]]>So these moments – snatched with grasping fingers and held close – are ones to treasure forever.
The sense of anticipation on a Friday evening, as a long four day weekend stretches ahead of us. The excitement as we arrive in Devon, on the way to see my parents’ new home, taking in the Jubilee bunting strewn through various villages.
The inevitable tears and glee from an over-excited child, aware that something is different on this night. It is not a usual bedtime.
Waking up to a sunny morning in the Devon countryside, with no sound except the birdsong outside the window.
Eating breakfast in a beautiful kitchen, as sunlight streams through the open doors, taking in the endless possibilities that this day may bring.
Discovering a new birthday present for a child, soon to be two years old. Watching the delight on her face as she “drives” around the spacious garden on her gleaming tractor.
Taking a picnic to the beach, tucking into roast chicken sandwiches and apples, as the waves crash onto the sand. Making castles and burying feet. Witnessing hesitant, toddling, steps towards the water, turning into confident strides and, eventually, a fully fledged run.
Discarded clothes, a nappy, a perfect peachy bottom covered in sand.
A cold glass of Pimms in the garden, as the afternoon turns to evening. Serene in the knowledge tomorrow will be another day packed with moments to pinch between the fingers and stuff into bulging pockets full of memories.
Moments like these make life slow down.
I love them.
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]]>The post What were you doing on 21st October 1994? appeared first on Mother's Always Right.
]]>The diary
This is a transcribed entry from my actual diary, started in 1994. I was 11. In my infinite wisdom I decided to write up this diary and then put it on the radio. You can listen to some of the past entries either here or here.
It’s all rather embarrassing, but going through it has brought back some funny memories. So read on and then tell me, what were you doing on 21st October 1994?
***
Dear Diary,
It’s been a VERY busy day today. At lunch, Helena kicked Amy’s ball onto the roof and we weren’t allowed to go and get it. Then the boys came and – even though it was girls day in the football area – they TOTALLY took over!!!
Miss said they had to let us play because it was girls day so then we had a big game of girls v boys. The boys had more in their team so about two of them came on our team, but the STUPID boys still won… It’s only because they were FOULING all over the place!!!
One of them kicked the ball at me really hard and it hurt. So I pinched Neil because he was cheating but then he pinched me back and kicked the ball at me again. I cried and walked off. Well wouldn’t you?!!!!
But then I was worried I would be missing too much so I decided to come back again.
I hope they don’t let the stupid BOYS play next time.
Love,
Molly
X-O-X-O
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Me. Aged 10. Or 11. Or thereabouts.
Remember 1994? When everyone was wearing those heatglo T’shirts you could turn flourescent just by blowing on them? Before owning a pair of GHD’s was the norm and Take That were big the first time round?
Well I’ve been right back there this evening.
I found my diary you see. It contains the thoughts, angst and lists of loves from my Year 6 self. I had just turned 11 and thought I had the world sussed. Clearly, I hadn’t (especially not Maths or boys), but who was I to correct myself?
The thing is, rather than shoving this diary to the back of a sock drawer, to gather dust and never see light again, I thought I’d share it. Not just with one or two people. But with the audience of the breakfast radio show I co-present for Heart. And, now, with you.
If you missed the first instalment, you can listen back here.
And now to the next entry, as read by a lovely ten year old who is quite clearly after my job on the radio. I’m cringing already…
***
After I bared my 10 year old soul last week, Dorky Mum suggested I turn The Diary into a Linky. I’m not sure anyone would join. It may be like throwing a party and no one turning up.
So to test the waters, I thought I’d put some “feelers” out (what does that even mean anyway?). Would anyone be interested in either baring their soul in a similar fashion or casting their minds back to their younger selves and writing an entry as if you were a kid again?
If you have a burning desire to do just that then let me know and I’ll open it out when the next entry goes live this time next week.
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The tattered diary
I may have taken dedication to my job too far. And, in another lack of judgment, I may have taken dedication to my blog too far.
I found my old diary, you see. It begins in 1994, aged 11. It’s cringeworthy, to the extreme.
But it’s also a gold mine of content. References to subjects at school, friendships, tiffs with boys, favourite games, crushes, favourite films, favourite clothes… It’s an insight into my actual mind of 18 years ago.
I couldn’t sit on it.
So I took it into work and pitched an idea to my boss. How about I transcribe this diary, word for word – only a tiny bit edited – and we put it on the radio? It might trigger some memories that our listeners can relate to. They might feel sorry for me in my cringey squareness and geekery. They might even find it funny.
Sure, he said. Great idea.
And then our producer had an equally great idea. Let’s get another child to voice it. That way we’ll really get into the mind of a child. But make sure she’s all Drama Queen, otherwise people won’t believe that it was actually written by you.
OK, I said. And then, in my infinite wisdom, I asked if I could share it with the people who read my blog.
Oh, I’m so clever. No, really I am.
Or just very very stupid.
So here it is. The first entry of my diary. Please don’t judge me…
***
If you liked this, you can see more on the Heart website. If it’s not a total flop then I may bring you back the next instalment. It’s up to you – do you want to hear any more?
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]]>Here’s the proof…
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