this beautiful season

Parenting seems to go in seasons.

There are definitely phases to it,

and one of the first things that you learn on becoming a parent,

is that these phases go in the blink of an eye.

It's not always easy to remember that when you're in them,

but life changes so quickly,

babies grow up.

The days are long,

but the years are so fast.

And lately I find myself in a quite frankly beautiful season.

I love my children to pieces all the time,

but lately they just bring so much inexplicable joy.

They bring me so many smiles

so much pride

and so much love.

We seem to be an easy kind of stage

where we all have each other figured out

and can just concentrate on the good things.

And it makes me desperate to store up memories of this season,

ready for harder ones which I know will come.

I want to record, to remember the details

of what makes my beautiful children who they are

at this exact moment in their lives.

I want to remember the cheekiness of my beautiful boy.

The way he is starting become really aware of how to raise a laugh.

The way he smile with his entire face and with no reservation.

The way he always, without fail, offers to share his ice cream with his sister.

I want to remember how focused my beautiful girl can be.

How she is developing a proper 'concentration face'

and how that little pout and dipped brow just melts me.

I want to remember how much he is delighted by the simplest of things.

Like a bucket full of water,

or a bedsheet we can make into a den,

or just saying the words "come and get me".

I want to remember how easy going she is.

How chilled she is and the way that she loves nothing more than cuddles.

That she will watch her brother run around for hours

and that she is always so happy.

I want to remember how much he likes to "go on an adventure"

and that those adventures can be the simplest things.

I want to remember that he says "fffffff" when you tell him to blow.

I want to remember the hesitant way that she can be with new things,

but how she doesn't let anything scare her.

The way she clung to me when she first went swimming,

but then splashed like a trooper and giggled like a monkey.

I want to remember the way he wakes up with crazy hair,

and that he sleeps sideways across the bed.

I want to remember the cuddly way he is when wakes up

but how that soon passes when the park gets mentioned.

I want to remember the look of absolute hero worship

that she saves for her big brother.

The way that her eyes follow him constantly

and that her soul purpose in crawling is to be where he is.

I want to remember how my little man seems simultaneously a baby and a big boy.

How these toddler days can be so incredibly intense 

and the next second, filled with hysterical laughter.

I want to remember the pure innocence of her.

The innocence that lets you fall asleep on mummy's chest

and then be transferred to a picnic blanket for an alfresco snooze.

(I want to remember that her big, grown up brother was also napping in the shade tent nearby.)

I want to remember how he suddenly seems to be growing like a weed

and that he can finally touch his feet on the bottom of the hot tub.

I want to remember the way he shook with excitement when he realised that fact.

I want to remember the face of concentration as he perfected it.

I want to remember how rough and ready she is.

How she'll roll around in the grass without flinching,

how she tries foods without question,

how she laughs when he brother climbs on her.

I'm breathing in this beautiful season.

I'm locking it in my heart.

And I'm hoping it lasts a while longer . . .