Living Arrows 10/52

March 10, 2014 by Jenni Clutten | 9 Comments

Last Monday all seemed well until I put you in the car after a run around in the park following preschool and then out of nowhere you were violently sick.  I pulled over to try and help but there was nothing I could do.  It was at that moment so overwhelming, to be faced with such a task, like a sea of vomit was coming to drown us!  I felt somehow ill equiped or ill prepared to see you so upset and in pain, for one of the only times since you were born, I felt lost.  It was not helped by the fact that the number one target of all this had been your beloved dog, he was festering in sick and I had to prize him out of your grasp.  It only made you sadder, and I wondered if I’d done the right thing, taking a beloved toy from a sick child!

I brought you inside and tried to settle you, give you some water, distract you from the fact dog was in the washing machine. Then later after cuddles (and the return of the dog,) in just your nappy you fell asleep on the sofa.  It was so out of character, I don’t think you’ve fallen asleep on the sofa since you were about 3 months old.  So disorientating, the realisation of how sick and exhausted you must be, to let your eyelids slip down and rest a while.  However, I was grateful to be able to capture you, lying there so still, sucking on your thumb.  I’m so glad you’re feeling better, even if I never get to capture this moment again.

You my darling are the only one who hasn’t been sick this week, you’re the smallest but clearly the strongest! Yesterday we spent time relaxing in the back garden for the first time, taking in the bright sunshine.  We laid you out in front of us to try and stop the sun from getting in your eyes and you were happy to taking in the changes in light and the variety of noises.  It’s Spring and it has coincided with your awakening, from a sleepy newborn bundle all cuddled up inside, to a baby adventuring out of her own cocoon more and more.

You are such a chatterbox, you love to take turns to gurgle back at us, watching our mouths and in turn vocalizing your own things.  I wonder what you are saying, but sure enough before I know it you’ll be able to tell us.  Time goes so fast and my heart aches as I pack away yet more baby clothes.  It’s so bittersweet to see you learn and grow, but I am so sad to think that every second gone, is one I’ll not get see again.