I know that in the world of parenthood, and life in general, that it’s more common to count ‘firsts’ but lately I’ve been counting lasts. If I was a more organised mother, I’d have baby books to write in and fill up with all their magical firsts and achievements and locks of hair and drawings. Or I’d have a set of those nifty little milestone cards and take pictures on key dates, providing I remembered them. But I didn’t and I don’t. Instead, since the boys turned two and are well and truly into toddlerhood, I’ve been thinking about this new land and all the things we’ve left behind.
There’s a poem about ‘the last time’ and it’s all about how you need to cherish all the moments (even the difficult ones) with your babes because you don’t know when the last time is until you don’t do it anymore. It’s bittersweet. Here’s some things that we’ve done for the last time…
- Paddy sleeping in his cot. He’s never really liked the state of the art cot but sometime in the last few months, he spent his last night in there. Who am I kidding? He’s never spent a whole night in there. He spent his last few hours in there. One day, he just decided that was it and there was no way he was going back in there and would scream until he was removed and placed on Shane’s battered old swag which was on the floor in their room for Shane to sleep on. We’ve since upgraded him to a double mattress on the floor which makes co sleeping much more comfortable. Sometimes, he even sleeps on the floor.
- Me feeding them yoghurt. They’ve always had a taste for yoghurt and I’ve alternated between spooning it (the plain Greek stuff with some fruit blitzed in cos we sort of quit sugar) into a reusable squeezey pack (cos I’m obnoxious like that) and feeding them from a bowl. Well, no more. Now they like to have their own little bowl and spoon and feed themselves. It’s cute and messy and sometimes the dog gets a taste.
- Carry them out of the bath. The bath time regime usually involves me running the bath then decamping to the lounge room to watch ‘Neighbours’ while Shane baths them. Then he yells out and I turn the TV off and pretend I was cleaning or doing dishes or something and go in and get one boy, bring him out and dress him etc. But now, they like to have a towel wrapped around them and walk out of the bathroom like mini Roman Emperors. So now I’m going to have be better at concealing my trash TV watching habits.
- Take the pram to the park. There’s always been a pram in the car for little trips to the supermarket (because only Coles has the foresight to have twin trolleys easily accessible) other minor errands and getting from the car park to the park without losing one. It’s also been pretty handy for strapping them in when it’s time to leave the park so they can’t run away. But now, they seem to understand what I’m saying at least some of the time and I can reason with them to a degree. We’ve been working on holding hands and it seems to be going ok. So we might just have almost made the pram redundant. Almost.
And the thing with toddlers and growing up and learning and developing, is that they don’t seem to regress so I’m pretty confident that they won’t be pulling any John Farnham style ‘last time’ antics and be just tricking me. Which is great and sad all at once. My little babes are becoming little boys.