This year I have decided not to make any resolutions as I usually forget about them after a few days, anyway. Having said that, out of the six I made last year, I managed to stick to three (doing something about my hair/style…and that’s all gone pear-shaped again, starting a blog and doing some physical activity, which again dissolved into vapour the second I got pregnant).
This year, however, I decided to set my mind to enjoying the moment more. I am still working on it but I am hopeful. Lately I have been worrying too much about the future (no news there for whoever knows me but I’m getting worse). It has reached a point where it’s getting in the way of the present. Instead of savouring the time with my daughter, I spend those precious moments thinking about what needs to be done. I miss my husband when he’s at work (which is most nights and some very long days) and yet the second we meet I always manage to bring up the storage we need to buy, the walls that still need painting and the fact that, at some point before I pop, we will need to buy baby furniture and equipment.
My husband recently reorganised his photos, a mammoth task if you ask me, and he came across video clips and photos of when Maia was three. That was the year I met him and he met her and it feels like aeons have passed, even though it’s only been over two years. I ended up crying and pregnancy hormones had little to do with it. It dawned on me how much she had changed, both physically and as a person. The first three years of her life she was the person I had moulded. She was girly and loved princesses, unicorns and fairies. Her favourite colour was purple, which then became pink. She threw a tantrum every half hour and her hair was long and curly. Now she is opinionated and her hair is darker, shorter and straight. She claims to love black now (but really still gravitates towards pink) and is so active physically that I sometimes worry there’s something wrong with her. Yesterday she spent the whole afternoon chatting NON-STOP (if she was alone she was chatting to the sink, the computer, the dolls, the cushions…whatever was next to her) and hopping and twirling. The whole afternoon. That’s about four hours I’m talking about.
In a couple of years I’ll be looking back on today and wondering at the same things. I want to enjoy the now more but it isn’t always so easy. This morning I went to work late so I had time to get her ready and drive her to school myself. I ended up arguing with her over the insane amount of milk she poured over her cereals, I lost my patience when I saw that we were running late and she couldn’t finish her breakfast and was generally a nightmare mum. As it turned out, she finished her breakfast and we made it to school just in time. I needn’t have ruined the first hour of the day. I shudder to think what I’ll be like with two children to take care of!