Remembering

We celebrated Arthur’s second birthday last October. He is the littlest of our tribe of three. And I marvel at how quickly time has travelled, the milestones we have reached and tantrums endured. How my dimpled-sweet babe slithers and writhes, booms and clangs. How I was his everything, and now fire, pancakes and a little-green-digger fill his heart. How baby days are fleeting.

But as my belly swells with our fourth child, I remember baby days. Regurgitated milk down my bra and honey poo-explosions. Swaying hips and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. My body bedraggled with exhaustion. Days directed by the rhythms of another. Cuddles pure and intoxicating. The wonder of new life.

And I remember when we had three children under three. When we were out-numbered and out-of-control. Chasing little-feet helter-skelter through chaos and pandemonium. A toddler unravelling toilet