Safe danger, bobble hats, and other Small Things

We’re in the midst of Christmas mania in our house. The tree has been dragged from the loft (with caution, because of spiders). There is glitter on every surface. I am enjoying a small piece of low-quality chocolate every day after dinner.

Autumn came and went. The leaves that remain on the ground are turning into sludge. Sometimes, when we go out in the mornings, Jellybean shouts ‘IT’S A FROSTY DAY!’ and the journey to pre-school becomes a bit more exciting (for her anyway.) She likes seeing her breath.

I used to really love the winter. I loved the sharp coldness and the bare branches of the tree against a blank sky. I liked the frosty mornings. I liked seeing my breath. Now I have TN there’s a whole world of issues surrounding cold weather that have tainted it a bit.

I like autumn more now, for those last moments of warmth before the cold kicks in.

Time mostly slides by, but sometimes I catch myself in a moment and I think quick, take it in! and so I do; I just really look at things. I try to trust myself to file it away in my brain (but most times I cheat and write it down). There are little moments in life that you want to preserve in your memory forever, not because of their significance, more because of their present normality.

Like bonfire night.

We went for a walk with the kids (because tradition trumps pain-triggered-by-cold). Around the block a few times. And I had that moment. Quick, take it in!

I don’t want to forget the leaves backlit by a streetlight, rustling, casting shadows on us as we walked.

I don’t want to forget my baby boy in his bobble hat and coat. I don’t want to forget his little red nose and his pouty lips and his wide eyes and his chubby cheeks, still tiny in Chris’s arms.

I don’t want to forget my daughter skipping and fizzing with excitement at the sight of the moon and the stars, punctuated with the occasional surprise of a firework. I don’t want to forget her face as she enjoyed that thing that most kids enjoy: safe danger, the kind of exhilarating thrill that comes from being slightly closer to the edge of your comfort zone than normal, but at the same time comforted by the safe presence of your parents. I don’t want to forget her occasionally glancing in my direction, sometimes sidling slightly closer when a loud rocket made her jump.

I don’t want to forget getting them inside and taking off coats and shoes and scarves and hats and bundling them into bed, not because it was peaceful (because let’s face it, a rushed bedtime is not usually a peaceful bedtime), more for the happiness we felt when they finally conked out, snoring, undone by the thrill of a walk in the night.

Small things.

Sometimes the changing of the season reminds you.


Have you got any small moments from the last season that you want to remember? Share them with me … the writing of it helps to cement it in your brain anyway 😉

Further reading:

Adventuring, and other things we lose when we grow up

September: one year left before school

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One Comment

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  1. Not from a season Meg but one of those small, special moments …

    Sam was home for a weekend recently and we were in my bedroom, tussling over my hairdryer (we both wanted to use it at the same time). Anyway, he sat on my floor, patiently waiting. I couldn’t bear it though hahaha so started drying his hair. Something I haven’t done for too many years to count (he’s 24). All those times throughout childhood when I did dry his hair were sometimes a chore. It’s something you don’t think about as a parent do you. It’s just something you do. Such a simple thing yet it was one of those ‘connecting’ moments. It was beautiful. 🙂

    Like

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