A Melting Clock

melting_clockDali had it right. Clocks melt. Time melts. There is NO time left in life anymore. I sit on the train day in and day out and I watch the world pass as I go to work. Fields full of animals. Thick woods with, on the rare occasion, deer running through. Cloud streaked skies and sometimes cloud streaked fields, when it’s misty out there. I watch it fly past and I think about my life. I love my daughter and my husband and being a family. I wish we had more holidays, more ‘things’ sometimes, but mostly I just wish I had more time.

There are 120 hours Monday-Friday. In those 120 hours, 60 of those are spent working and travelling to and from work. 40 are spent sleeping. 10 are spent eating/showering/on the loo. So therefore, I have 10 hours in five days, to be a mum, a wife and myself. It’s just not enough time. I get home at 7pm, and after I eat, it’s almost bed time and if it’s not bedtime, I’m so exhausted from the day that I can barely blink. I live for the weekend, when I can spend those precious 32 hours (16 sleeping) with Sophie and Husband, and fit in all the playtime and kisses that I missed in the week. All too soon though, I’m back on that train, staring at those clouds and wishing for more time. It scares me how much of life is spent staring at a computer screen and not ‘out there’ and ‘doing things’. The trouble is, ‘things’ require money, money that you cannot earn unless you’re working. Someone got it all wrong. We work our backsides off 5 days a week, for little money that gets taxed to hell and little time with families.

They don’t stay little for long, at all, and I know I’m going to (well, I am…) miss so much of Sophie. She get’s so happy when I’m there and holding her and playing that she points at things, says ‘What’s that’ and looks at me expectantly, like I know everything about the world and I’m going to tell her everything. She wants to know what doorknockers are, what window seals are and what my nose is.

We miss out on all this. Instead, we watch the fields go past and the sky change from a distance. I don’t get to see Sophie’s sky change all that often and that is the worst bit. I don’t want to miss out on her walking, or saying new words, or being able to show me how fast she can climb the stairs (which reminds me, must get a gate!).  Work takes up way too much of life sometimes, but a necessary evil nonetheless.

I just wish for more time.

 

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BabyGro? No, Baby GROW

Sophie has completely outgrown all her 0-3 month sleepsuits now and I feel like I should cry. I love my daughter unconditionally, don’t get me wrong, but she’s no longer the 6lb4 little ball of squidge I gave birth to. She is long and plump and biteable.

This was definitely the part I was looking forward to most – the laughs, the smiles, having her recognise me when I walk into a room. But I miss the newborn smell, and how when I used to pick her up she used to stay curled up like a little prawn.

It was a year ago today that I got those two pink lines and gosh I find myself jealous of pregnant women! They have all this to come and I don’t – how stupid is that!

Anyway  we bagged up all the 0-3 babygrows and tops and vests that we had bought. This is what Sophie looked like at 8 hours old:

8 hours old and so squishy

And now she is a little fatso! Well no not really but in that photo her feet are at my waist and her head is at my knees. Now her bum is at my waist and her feet kick my tits. She is getting so big.

I came home from school today and found out that Simon had been making her belly laugh most of the afternoon! How can the little tiny dot of a baby I gave birth to now be laughing her head off??

 

Time flies…but the memories you collect along the way is what means the most