Time is something invaluable, precious and scarce. Everyone at some point wishes there was a time machine invented to turn back the clocks and return to moments which were so precious and are now only a distant memory.
My darling son is now 7 years old. Holding mummy’s hand is no longer cool and kisses at the school gate are given quickly and discretely.
As mums, we’re continuously questioning “where did the time go?” or stating that “time goes by so quickly!” and that is very true, unfortunately.
It daunted me the other day when I asked Alfie if he would like a bedtime story. It’s not very often we have 10 minutes in the evening to do this without Holly demanding boob or getting overtired, so I jumped at the chance.
I have been reading Alfie bedtime stories since he was a baby, but up to the age of around 5-6, he was no longer interested.
“Stories are boring!” ..Wait, what?! Going from a little boy who used to ask me to read him 4 bedtime stories each night, to no longer want one did come at a bit of a shock.
He’s grown up.
He is no longer the little 4 year old who held my hand on the school run, always asked for cuddles with mummy and would giggle at our bedtime stories together each night.
And at that point I realised.
There was a time, at some point, that it would’ve been the last time I read him a bedtime story.
There was a time that it would’ve been the last time he asked me to hold his hand.
And there was a time that it would’ve been the last time he asked for a cuddle without me pouncing on him and trying to set himself free for dear life.
Did I treasure those moments enough?
At the time – If we were in a hurry, I would tell him to let go of my hand. I’d always try and read our bedtime stories quickly just so I could hurry downstairs to watch Eastenders. And sometimes, I didn’t always want him to cuddle me.
It was only when his little sister made an appearance last April that our time together became very limited. I wasn’t able to give him my attention 24/7 like I had done previously for his whole 6 years of life.
I’d like to think that these things (which may seem petty to some, but are very precious to me), is just something he has outgrown. Rather than expecting to not receive them because of his baby sister. It’s pretty hard to hold a child’s hand whilst pushing a pram.
As a mum, I expected my children to grow up of course. But I had never prepared myself for the changes which they go through as they grow up.
And I guess at some point, we do regret not appreciating our time enough with our children – and when they’re grown up, we only wish we could turn back time. #MumGuilt at it’s finest.
The not so perks of having other children means you do miss out on that special time you once had with your first born. Times which I once took for granted but would do anything to relive those moments again.
The reasons why I wish I could turn back time –
I wish I could hold Alfie’s hand a little tighter. I wish I could cuddle him that little bit longer. And I wish I could spend hours reading to him and giggling over mummy’s ‘funny voice’.
If I could give my former one-child-self any advice, it would be not to take for granted the (sometimes) slightly annoying times spent with your first born. Because one day, they become a distant memory which you can never get back.
Although we’re quick to say how fast our children grow up, most of us aren’t ever prepared for those last moments which come around so unexpectedly.
Are there any moments you wish you could relive again with your child?