My baby is gone. And I only realised this after watching this little film of O in her Tiny Trike (which was kindly sent by the toy wizards of Galt Toys), and realising she’s slightly too big for it already. It leads me to the rhetorical question of the day: How can she outgrow things? SHE SHOULDN’T. SHE CAN’T. I haven’t had time to have enough of her as a baby. She loves the little bike so much that when she wakes up, she jumps on it and cycles to the living room for her milk. At least that, she still has some of her baby habits: milk, dummies, nappies (yes, not potty training yet. SUE ME.) I can’t help by being nostalgic. I wonder if it’s always gonna be like this? Constantly pining for the fleeting moments that make up a childhood. There was a time in my life when I used to miss my own childhood. Now I’ll be missing hers too.
I know what you’re thinking. And NO, I’m not having another one. Not now anyway. Thanks for asking.