I know, two blogs in one day. But it’s all Erica‘s fault with the post she just put up about her six and a half year old – about wanting time to stand still. Years ago, a friend of mine couldn’t work out why I was sad when I stopped BF, why I was sad when they could feed themselves – actually getting the spoon into their mouth as opposed to all over me. But look at this photo. This is my baby. On one of his first attempts at sitting on the big toilet. Except he’s now 4. And half awake, half asleep on the sofa next to me, whimpering as he’s unwell.
Time is going too fast for my liking. E is finishing his reception year of big boy school and W starts at the big boy school in September. I just can’t work out how it’s all happened so fast. I love being a mum and I’m sure that there are loads more great adventures together ahead in the future, but I can’t help wanting time to go a bit more slowly, just a bit. Please?
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