Second week back at work, first week doing two jobs, Husband at the game in the freezing cold with house guest, children asleep for hours, me alone watching Bridget Jones’s Diary.
(Still makes me laugh and get the giggles. Still magic, after all these years. Guilty pleasure.)
Very satisfying end to the work week.
“What do you want to do?! I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO DO!”
Join the club, kiddo.
Our little girl turned 5 last Saturday.
That’s half a decade old. That is ridiculous.
I look at her, and she’s gorgeous and she makes my heart smile. But sometimes, there’s a particular kind of terror that grips my heart because she’s growing up so quickly. When it was just her and only her, we could note every little difference. We relished each new word learnt, each new concept grasped. But now that we are Four, there are days I feel I miss whole chunks, whole spaces of time where I can look at my firstborn and really see her. The missing of minute changes and whispers of growing. The realisation sometimes stops me in my tracks like a heart twinge.
“The standard you walk past is the standard you accept.”
“The turning point in the process of growing up is when you discover the core of strength within you that survives all hurt.”