Slow Down, Little One. (The Impatience Of Parenthood)

On wishing away my son’s first year. And then wishing it back again.

Dear Jack,

Please slow down. You’re moving too fast.

With every new achievement and every milestone you reach I clap and coo and encourage you to take that extra step, to say that sound again.

When you were crying and cross and uncomfortable I wished you bigger so you could sit up and hold down your milk.

When you were up every hour in the night, I wished you older, so you would sleep better (not realising you wouldn’t).

When you got your first tooth I encouraged you to bite down, I felt in wonder as one, two, three popped out in succession.

When you lay and looked up at the world I wondered if you’d roll, and encouraged you to try.

When you rolled across the floor I helped you to sit, and caught you if you fell.

When you pulled yourself up I steadied you. Wondered if you’d take a step.

When you asked for your mama, I told you to try ‘dada’.

With every day that passes by, you learn something new, change in some small way that only I notice.

And I stand by you, encouraging you to grow, to learn, to play, to change.

But slow down, little one.

Move at your own speed.

I’m so excited to get to know you, to find out how you move, how you talk, how you think and how you feel, I sometimes forget that with every new you I meet, an old you slips through my fingertips forever.

Everytime I see a newborn baby I just want to hold you in my arms and remember that first time I held you. How tiny and dependant you were.

I can’t wait to get to know every little thing about you. But I can wait.

Move at your own speed. 

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