A Window into Life in the Suburbs

"Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these." Luke 12:27 (NIV)

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Baby Hands No More

Woke up at 4:30 this morning and stayed awake. Something to do with chickens outside my window. Not exactly a great start to the day. But 4:30 is more or less the crack of dawn in these parts at this time of the year.
Spent the rest of the day in a kind of semi-lucid stupor which hung around all day like a bad smell. 

"Tired", "cranky" and "shouty" characterised the last 16 hours of my existence. Not exactly the model of motherliness I had hoped to convey. I've been so spoilt these past months having been so well-looked after. It's as if I've had to relearn the process of coping with children on my own.

I am so ready to jump into bed... Sleep's pretty glorious when you've been robbed of it.

4 year old and I toddled along to Prep orientation. She is off to school next year which is, if you think about it, only really a couple of months away. I had this wonderful notion that we would walk to school this morning. A wonderful notion except that I had conveniently forgotten about the almighty book pack to take home. Walking, I had thought, would save me from having to find a park and do battle with the multitude of Prep parents to get through the local streets. So lucky me... I had to lug the book pack home on foot. Hence, I got a bit more exercise than I had originally planned to.

Yeah, it's a milestone for us. Once upon a time 4 year old was a baby... and then exploded into a toddler... quickly morphed into a preschooler and in no time at all, she's taking on school. Mentally she's been ready for the idea of school for a while (although I suspect it's the uniform that's driving the interest)... the question now being... is school ready for her?

4 year old's nails really needed clipping. So I clipped them. Scrutinizing her fingers today, it really hit home that she has left those early years of childhood behind her. The baby hands have morphed. Regretfully they were surreptitiously transformed into the next phase without my realizing it.
Obviously a part of me is keen for her to be at school because of that incredible energy that is rooted in the DNA of her personality. And yet all that time we spend wishing they'd grow up quickly, I now realize, could have been better spent enjoying them.

Afterall, they're only young once.

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