Having two little ones is time consuming to say the least, and yet I constantly feel as though I have spent NO time with either of them once I reach the end of the end. Being a parent often leaves you with that guilty feeling somewhere in the back of your head doesn't it? Like you could be doing better, surely?
Since Baby T has arrived I've been torn between the two of them: feeding one whist telling a story to another, bouncing the baby to sleep whilst painting with A, peeling playdoh off the kitchen floor whilst cleaning bottles and bowls...I never feel I get to enjoy them and do the fun stuff. Of course I love our time together, but it's all pretty functioanl based with the odd exception.
Mr B is away at a work conference for a few days and I've had them to myself (usually he gets to sweep in at the end of the day to cries of please will you put me to bed and read my story daddy!!?). Baby T has been really under the weather and after a spell being observed in a&e for the best part of the day he has been keeping me up day and night in need of cuddles. He's got no voice so his cry is really sad so I can't be mad that i've not sleep for nearly 48 hours! We sat up last night and watched Mad Men whilst I gave him a lecture on why he cannot grow up to be like the men on the television...and whilst we were sitting there having a cuddle I suddenly realised how big he his.
He is six months. When did that happen? He can sit up, put his spoon to his mouth, tip his bottle up, babble noises, give those cheese rollers a run for their money and pull his sister's hair with the vigour of a much bigger little brother!
With A, I noted every little thing. I recorded everything. There are millions of photgraphs. He doesn't have that-we have literally just been busier. He is such a precious little thing. Always smiling, never grumpy, giving cuddles and waving arms, I feel I should be given a telling off for not documenting him...but actually, we are just living, and perhaps thats better?