Little Hand

Little hand snug in mine,
Walking, dawdling,
Spending time.

A Farewell to Baby Days

For someone who desperately does not want any more children, the waving goodbye to baby days has been sad.

For the last 12 months I’ve been looking forward to the Youngest Miss moving on into little girlhood and away from babydom. In the past month we have moved into a big bed, and in the last week we have mastered toilet training. A large part of me rejoices. Hurray! No more pooey nappies to change while simultaneously trying not to heave! Hurray! Saving $30 or so a week by not buying nappies! Hurray! More room in the garbage bin without used nappies!

But it’s with regret I have parted with the cot I lovingly picked out 6 years ago for the Biggest Miss, complete with little nibble marks around the perimeter. It’s now gone to a younger cousin. As has all the linen that was selected when we were yet to meet these two incredible girls, when our future was full of endless possibilities. The high chair has gone, the port a cot donated, rattles, rusks, bibs, and Bonds suits have all vanished from our lives.

But the sadness is temporary. We have moved into a more independent phase, where we can resume some semblance of our “before children” lives. A life that doesn’t necessitate lugging around a 6kg nappy bag stocked with all the emergency supplies that babyhood necessitates. A life that includes going out to dinner (albeit earlier and with crayons and colouring books in tow), and holding little hands in mine as opposed to pushing a pram.

With babies the world closes in, encapsulates the young faily in a protective cocoon. Our world is opening up, and whilst I will alwys feel misty eyed when I think of our baby days, I am leaping forward into the new version of life that is rushing to greet me.

The Joy of "Old" Friends

This week has been a special week for me (excluding the fires that have killed 181 so far and left thousands homeless, of course!).

Through the wonders of social networking site Facebook, I had dinner with two friends from high school, whom I haven’t seen for half my lifetime. And there’s nothing more sure to make you feel old than adding up the years between catch-ups with friends, and then realising that it’s half my lifetime I ago! The last I saw J was at about 18, I’m 36 now – so, yes, that’s half my lifetime! Ahhhhhh! For I, it was about 15 years, so only just over a third of my lifetime. A much more acceptable fraction!

Anyway, meeting again was like picking up a conversation that only paused yesterday.

I moved to Melbourne 15 years ago to be with my now-husband. I struggled to place a foothold of my own as my darling OH was an umpire of AFL in a town that is OBSESSED with the sport. I felt that my identity as “KJ, all round nice girl” was usurped by being so-and-so, the AFL umpire’s girlfriend. How the now famous WAGS of sportsmen happily adopt that title is beyond me. Being known merely as someone’s partner is belittling and personality stripping, as far as I’m concerned.

So, to spend an animated conversation resuming my former persona was such an uplifting and confidence boosting experience I want more! For a few hours I was me again – more than someone’s girlfriend, wife or mother. They remembered me in my finest (or at least youthful) years, and for the first time in a REALLY long time I could talk about *gasp* my life before I met my husband! I barely thought about, let alone talked about, my darling husband and our two gorgeous girls.

Whilst I would not trade my life with theirs, casual sex and all, it was nice to be me again…..or at least as I once was!

And, what to me seemed the most amazing thing, they both said they would swap their single commitment-free lifestyle for my suburban hum drum.