Ah the cliches!

There are SO many cliches that I throw around far too often since I have become a Mum, “this too shall pass”, “they are not babies forever” etc etc, but this one yesterday came out of my mouth before I could even think of just how cliche it sounded…”they grow up SO fast”. But it was true. And there were no other words that I could use but those.

My brother sent me through some snaps that he had taken on the weekend when he went away for the long weekend with his little boy Zac. Except it became apparent to me that he is just not so little anymore. Look at him! A big 6 (almost 7 year old boy). Zac was the first grandchild in our family, the golden boy who was adored by all of his grandparents and aunts and uncles. With my sister living in Melbourne, even when she had a little girl a year later, Zac still was the front runner of our attention and affection due to his proximity to us all. He is my godson, and while I think I have failed miserably in this role, I have so enjoyed seeing him turn from a little chubby baby who we all sat around and marvelled at, to the toddler who lost his patience and became frustrated at the smallest thing, to this little boy. Well, big boy in my eyes. Who goes to school, rides bikes, plays cricket and soccer, watches a full game of AFL on the TV and has lots of friends and reads (big books – look at that book!). He is a kind boy, who has always taken time to play with Daisy and teach her things, and Daisy adores him.

It hit me and my pregnant hormonal self like a ton of bricks (yes there were tears and yes I was at work). They grow up. Before too long my little girl will be reading books, and not crying over every little thing that frustrates her or that she doesn’t get. She too will (hopefully!) become more patient and understanding, and caring and well, just plain bigger. The thought of not having “little Daisy” around almost breaks my heart but the excitement and anticipation of what is to come makes it all the more bearable. Why, I can hardly remember her being a newborn, or a little chubby 9 or 12 month old, but she surely was.

When things are hard, and every day feels like ground hog day and I think that I just may loose my mind from lack of sleep and patience from reasoning with a 2 year old I have to remind myself that it all goes by so fast, too fast – and before I know it this will all slip through my hands – and while I know each new stage will have their own challenges (hello teenage years I am talking to you) I want to remember to take the time to stop and smell the roses. Or something cliche like that.

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