Waves

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The days are tiring and lovely but what remains constant is the near impossibility of a moment to oneself. The moments lap in and out like waves, like tides.

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The children grow, one minute, one day at a time. They do things for the first time, or the last time, and they need me, despite disappearing for short periods into sleep or revery or delight in racing or dust or games on Grandma’s ipad.

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Antonia is a calm and happy baby but not one for sleeping long stretches. Felix is clever and challenging and (mostly) delightful – he feels so intensely and wants to understand everything. He can’t keep still for a moment.

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I’m enjoying being here and being able to share them with my family, who adore them. The weather is so gorgeous here, a lot of the time I feel that I never want to leave. And then I remember my little house, my own space, and know that at some point I will be ready to return.

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The week before Christmas we stayed with my parents at a beach house and it was so special – Felix had a ball.

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Walking along the edge of the surf, Antonia sleeping at my chest, Felix and Michael absorbed in their sand tunnels, I felt for a moment adrift in time – it could have been fifteen years ago, before I moved to Europe, before I’d met any of them. I walked away from Michael and Felix, along the beach. The waves hissed. Beaches are so timeless, sand water sky.

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And then I turned and walked back, to my beautiful, difficult, exuberant boys, the daughter I as yet barely know snuggly strapped to my chest.

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Grandma and Granddad’s house

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I’ve been really enjoying hanging out with the kids at my grandparents’ house. Mum says it’s strange to watch her grandson riding a bike along the same verandah she rode along as a child. It’s the same for me. So many childhood memories in this house and garden. And there I am, not a child any more but one of the mothers.

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How many babies have been cuddled on this lawn?

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How many barefoot races?

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How many children have helped with Christmas baking?

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Four months

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At four months old you are such a charming, snuggly, happy thing. I love you so. You’ve been rolling onto your tummy for a few weeks ago but just yesterday you worked out how to extract the arm that was getting stuck underneath you. You love to smile at people put not if they paw you before you’ve got to know them.

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You are so happy to snuggle with me in the ergo carrier and snooze peacefully there. You adore your brother and he adores you (though he threatened to pick you up with his toy crane).

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You’re not so keen on sleeping without frequent reassurance but that’s ok. You were weighed and measured when you were three months, and you were 8.2 kilos and 66.5cm – significantly heavier than Felix was at that age. We still call you little pudding. You make me happy. I’m so glad that you’re around.

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You’re pretty quiet but sometimes you sing to us and you laugh when you try to eat my nose.

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