When I was in my twenties and had no interest whatsoever in children, I remember listening to work colleagues talking to each other about their kids. It never failed to amaze me how enthusiastic they were about what I deemed to be extremely dull topics of conversation.
They can’t believe how fast they are growing up! Really? I’d think, you do realise we are all getting older one day at a time though? Your baby got his first tooth? We all grow teeth though, it’s not actually an achievement, is it?
In a mix of youthful arrogance and naivety, it genuinely baffled me. I mean, surely they couldn’t actually find these things interesting?
I used to think, when I’m older, if I have children, I’ll never be like that. I’ll never be so fascinated by these boring details. I’ll never be so dull, so lame.
And now, here I am. Mid thirties, with a three year old and a new baby who are the absolute lights of my life. Later this year my eldest starts school. It only seems a heartbeat ago that he was a tiny baby. I can’t believe how fast he’s growing up. And on Christmas Day, our baby got his first tooth. A tooth! His first ever, teeny, tiny tooth! I was so proud and excited, telling everyone who would listen – whether they were interested or not.
So I guess that’s it – I’m officially lame. That’s what these two little boys have done to me. And you know what? I don’t care. Because I get it now. I get that it’s incredibly exciting and extraordinary when your children do seemingly ordinary things. Because parenthood just fills you up with this powerful, overwhelming love and joy and pride. I’m lame, and loving it.
Heather lives in Hertfordshire with her husband and two little blue-eyed boys. In between naps and nursery runs, she works as a freelance writer. In 2015, she had a series of children’s books published, inspired by her experience of adopting ex-battery hens as pets.
Find out more on her website