beckity

We are talking to my parents, Elsie sitting on the sofa next to me, the conversation on loudspeaker so she can join in when she feels like it. 'Did you have fun with your friend yesterday Elsie?' my mum asks, 'what did you do?' 'She did a wee wee in her pants!' Elsie says, enjoying being the one to share the thrilling news. 'Oh dear, well accidents happen' my Mum says. 'I saw a photo of you both drawing.' 'Yes. And stickers!' Elsie remembers. The conversation turns to me and my current low mood, prompted by broken nights and a baby who seems to be having an incredibly hard time teething and not helped by a ridiculous early-morning collision with a parked car. 'It was so stupid!' I moan. 'I was going slowly, there was loads of room but I just wasn't concentrating and it's just another thing I've got to deal with now.' My parents are kind, tell me their own stories of mindless scrapes and I see that...

Everyone says it, in one way or another. Time flies! Where does the time go? Time's passing so fast... but I can't help but feel it flits past us even quicker than for many others. I was in the pharmacy asking for advice about an infected eye that was bothering Molly recently. The pharmacist was offering different options for washing it - boiled water, camomile... I told her how I was still breastfeeding and asked if the antibacterial qualities of breastmilk that the midwives raved about were still relevant. She looked down at 8-month old Molly in her pram and back at me 'well, yes, they do say that it helps, for babies .' I listened to the rest of her advice and paid a ridiculous amount for individually wrapped, sterile wipes but all the time I was screaming in my head 'she IS a baby!' She may wear clothes aimed at children double (yes double) her age but this is my baby!' It brought to mind an episode this summer when Marek and I were showing the girls...