Time can feel like it slows down, speeds up, or moves at a pace uncommon with our human world at different points in our life. Just ask Shakespeare… sad hours seem long… although he was writing words of young lovers waiting for the chance to meet again, it sure does ring true for mothers of newborns… the constant feeding, changing, burping and trying to get them to sleep… the days, hours, minutes and seconds can feel like that bloody lamb chop song… this is the song that doesn’t end… yes it goes on and on my friend… we thought waiting for a phone call or text from a boy we kind of liked as a teenager was an excruciatingly long process… the hours seemed to drag… and then we experienced witching hour with a newborn and began counting down the minutes until our baby daddy got home.
To my tiny human,
Today we walked down to our local café, The Trading Post, for coffee and lunch and I ordered you and toasted ham and cheese sandwich. As you sat and ate it, well picked at it like a bird, I realised you are no longer a baby (you are almost 16 months… I know I should have come to this realisation a bit sooner), but a tiny human with real thoughts, emotions, wants and needs (appetite included) … and I bloody love it.
My dearest Rafferty,
A year ago today you weren’t here. How can that be? I simply can’t imagine a life that doesn’t include you. You are such a wonderfully interesting little soul…sensitive, funny, cheeky and clever. You fill our house with your laughter and baby babble, I just love the sound of your developing voice and vocabulary.