It’s a cliche, but children grow up so fast, don’t you think? Two things have happened this week to make this point clear to me. The first was a couple of days ago when I accompanied Helen, our eldest daughter, to her school. Helen doesn’t start until September so this was an introductory session that allowed her to spend an hour meeting her classmates and teacher while I mingled with the other parents.
While I did some mingling it was a bit awkward. Our youngest daughter was with me and she was in a demanding mood. She was quite happy to be carried round the school hall looking at the pictures pinned on the display boards, but if I sat still for too long she would lunge at my fingers and try to take chunks out of them with her seven teeth and immensely powerful jaws.
Apparently Helen was a little shy but otherwise her session went well. It certainly took us long enough to leave the school as she explored every inch of the playground on the way out, the promise of ice cream doing little to entice her from the premises.
So that was the first thing to make me appreciate how quickly my daughters are growing up. The second was extraordinarily mundane. I was looking for tights for our youngest. She’s almost eight months old but the only tights I could find were sized for a 0-6 month old. This was never going to do. She’s just had a growth spurt and needs tights for a nine month old. Although I found some in the end, I had immense trouble locating the correct size.
In the greater scheme of things this was not a disaster; “Father can’t find correct sized tights” is never going to knock NHS reform off the news agenda. In my own little world, however, it was a big event. It was a sign that my second child is developing at a terrifyingly fast rate, just like her older sister. I’m resigned to the fact it won’t be that long until I’m taking the baby to an introductory session at school.
Thinking about it reminds me of when my younger brother passed his driving test. He wanted to show off his new driving skills and insisted on taking me out for a drive with our other brother.
We bundled into his little Volkswagen Golf and he carefully reversed out of the courtyard. Standing outside the house was my stepfather watching the three of us as we headed off for an adventure.
Almost 15 years later I can still picture my stepfather’s face as we drove off together. It wasn’t sad or negative in anyway but it was obvious he realised his boys were growing up and becoming increasingly independent.
Okay, so my children are a long way off passing their driving test but it’s going to come round soon enough. I don’t know what expression was on my face when Helen walked off to join her classmates the other day, but I suspect I looked very similar to my stepdad the day we disappeared off in that old Volkswagen. Â
Like this? Well why not read one or two of my earlier posts.
