Project Awesome

Making my life more awesome

Big Girl Small Girl

on June 18, 2012

I have a one-year-old. I had forgotten how much I love this age. The indiscriminate interest is my favourite thing – pointing at everything: a curtain! A wall! The window above the bathroom door! I don’t have to do anything or be entertaining. I am good enough exactly as I am. I don’t think I will ever again experience this sort of love. Suddenly I can understand people who keep having babies. I’m unlikely to become one of them though.

I also have a two-and-a-half-year-old. She shouts at me. She’s demanding. She tells me what to do. She lies on the floor and cries. I love this age too. I love the imagination she has, the world going on inside her head and the world she is discovering. I love how she says ‘yesterday’ for anything that has happened at any point in her past. I think she’s totally amazing and I am trying to enjoy the time I have with her now, while she still holds my hand and wants to be with me, wants me to play with her, because I can feel her growing up and away from me.

And the contrast between them, between their ages, helps me to enjoy both of them. The things I find frustrating about one age are not present in the other.  I can see where Little Girl is going and enjoy where she is now.  I can be glad that Big Girl is no longer where she was.  With Big Girl I get to watch her learn and develop, work out how to do new things. With Small Girl I get to relax, just enjoy what she’s doing now.

I feel like a traitor to all second children writing this. I hated the fact that my parents had already done everything with my elder sister first.  They had already decided which school she would go to, so they didn’t look at schools for me.  She got to wear new (well, new to us) clothes first.  I had to wait for handed-down hand-me-downs. Now I find myself thinking, if I’m going to buy new clothes, that I might as well buy them for Big Girl so they’ll both get to wear them. I hope I never travel back in time and meet my teenage self.  I’m not sure I could face myself.  It would probably end in some sort of death-match-time-travel-paradox-horror, and I think I have enough on my plate at the moment.


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