The phrase “cherish every moment” makes me rage. Because it’s unrealistic and unfair, and it’s often used as a really tacky and judgemental way of telling a mother who dares to complain about the hard times, that she isn’t grateful enough for what she has.
Which is pretty fucking ridiculous when most mothers I know are so grateful it physically hurts.
I live in a chaos of exhaustion, errands and moments like this.
Half an hour with my baby girl. One little babycino, her smiling face, and in an instant I’m crushed between two emotions: the heart-bursting love for this glorious little person, and the ever-present grief of motherhood that makes me want to freeze time because it’s all going so fast, and this little girl I’m so besotted with will be gone, any day now.
She’ll be replaced by a new child, older and sharper, and even though I’ll probably love her even more, she won’t be *this* child. This child will live only in my heart and on my camera roll.
In a year or so I’ll look back at this photo and my heart will crack a little at the memory of her sweet little face when her babycino was placed in front of her, the glow in her eyes as she looked up at mummy and asked if she could put her WHOLE marshmallow in it. The joy in her little body as she stirred her special treat. A moment so tiny but so big to her. A moment that will become less exciting, less joyful with time, because kids get older, more jaded and life loses its sheen. They become more like us, and that’s the biggest tragedy of all.
So don’t tell me I’m not grateful enough. My gratitude haunts me every day because I know, so painfully, that it won’t be like this for long.