Sitting in the library at a local sixth form, I suddenly realised that life is racing by. Big is pondering next steps in education – her story not mine, so no details here at the moment – and one thing seems certain, September will bring big changes to our family’s way of life.
Years turn and things change every year, but this all suddenly feels momentous. And if I’m not careful, I’ll miss all the other momentous changes that happen in each of the children in a blink of an eye. The summer seems to be racing away, and I’m not ready for it to end. Are we ever?
Small wants to take up fencing. I’ve emailed today looking into finding him a club, and he’s hoping he might make some friends. There’s also a nearby computing club, run by a friend and fellow home educator, and he might start going there. From the boy who a few years ago was reluctant to leave the house, having little interest in other children, he has quietly stretched and grown, and is now often surprising. At this rate he could end up with a better social life than me. Which, to be honest, wouldn’t be that difficult 😉
Smallest is on the cusp of reading independently. She’s been there for a while, balancing, unwilling to take the risk that somehow she might lose out by being able to read herself. (I suspect she thinks I wouldn’t read to her any more. I would.) Next year she’ll have her own Kentwell passport, and she’s already considering what stations she’d like to join, what skills she wants to learn. She talks about school every now and then, and I’ve agreed, if she’s still interested in a year or so, that we’ll look into her going. She needs and deserves a little more structured attention, and I’ve been orgoplanning in my head what that’s going to look like. (Not come across the orgo planning terminology before. That’s OK, Gill hadn’t either, so I explained it way back in 2009. It amuses me that the first thing we’re doing is a body project, as that’s exactly what I started with with the older ones back then.)
And finally to Tigerboy. Always my baby but not really a baby any more. We were reading a wonderful story book this morning, Captain Jack and the Pirates
(Amazon link), full of imagination and adventure, with three little boys in Helen Oxenbury’s wonderful illustrations. The youngest is a toddler, with a dummy in his mouth, and I looked at Tigerboy and realised he isn’t even that toddler. He’s a little boy, full of energy and daring, pushing every boundary he can as he climbs furniture, hurls toys and balls with gay abandon. He is stubborn, loving, demanding and independent in his own individual bundle, and I’m loving getting to know him better every day.
He’s also 3. And each time my youngest has been three before, I’ve been either trying to be pregnant, or already pregnant. This time though, although a small part of me will always yearn to hold my next new born in my arms, I’m not going to be doing that again. My body isn’t up to it, and my heart and mind are pretty full with the four wonderful children I have. Those missing babies leave a hole, it’s odd, and maybe that’s partly why I don’t think I will ever feel completely finished, but no baby you bear is ever a replacement for one you’ve lost, they are each their own person, even the ones you never meet.
I’m full of deep thoughts and emotions today, sitting with the sun on my back, taking forever to ramble through this post.
I know I will miss this, if I don’t take the time and energy to be present in my children’s lives. So that is my resolution, to be more present.
Disclosure: Captain Jack and the pirates was sent free of charge for review and will be written up properly very soon. Amazon links are affiliate links.
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