Where have 18 years gone? Jose was 18 on the 27th January and my Mum and I travelled up by train to see her. We stayed over on the Thursday night after seeing the show Wicked and decorated her kitchen before she came out of her room......well, I say before she came out of it Jose tried to sneek a look!! (nothing changes, memories of many Christmas eve's and this eagled eyed little girl!!)
I'd love to have seen my Grandad coping with the tube.
I had prepared this post ages ago but then blogger froze on me and I lost (or thought I had) it. I don't know about you but I do prefer the way to old blogger worked. I am not one who likes change.
I look at these photos and wish so hard that I could have my time back and play more with my kids. Someone I knew from years ago asked me what age your children grow up and reach that 'I can do it on my own, your sooooo embarrassing Mum'. Her son is 10 and still loves spending time with her. I told her to make the most of it as once it is gone you never ever get it back, their lives seem to change so much, so quickly. I know I wished it away, for the prospect of peace and quiet, less washing, no fighting but I would say there is not one day that i don't have a little moment (Jose - don't worry I am not getting soppy, I think this is a normal Mum thing) where I wish that I could just have that moment back just for a second, to open their bedroom door at night and see that sleeping child knowing that they are safe and warm and with me.
No more soppy-ness.