"Hurry up, we need to get home"

Why did I have to hurry him so much?

I was scrolling back to when curls filled my little boys head, when his steps weren’t rhythmic and his fist was always pointing.

We didn’t venture far in the early days. I got to know the neighbourhood well. The unpainted fences, the new gates, how weeds found a way to flourish through concrete.

He was out of the pram because he preferred to walk now, and everything was interesting.

I was filming him, his voice in squeaks of excitement at sticks, balls in yards, buttons on cars that I hurriedly explained were lights.

I could hear an edge in my voice that resembled impatience.

I was eager to get back home, to chores probably. While he was busy exploring and discovering, all I could think about were the many things waiting for me.

I started to get upset with myself,

But had I forgotten the lack of sleep?

Had I forgotten the night terrors we’d been experiencing?

The sensory meltdowns I wasn’t aware of yet?

The fact that at that moment I was probably overwhelmed and a bit lost.

We allow ourselves to forget the parts we want to.

Forget these photos are memories that will develop over time.

Fall into that trap of ‘enjoy every minute’.

We forget just how hard it can be and let mum guilt consume us.

I kept watching, he scooped up pebbles and proudly held them out to me, “very heavy”… he said. I told him he was very strong and, “let’s get home now”.

We’re hard on ourselves aren’t we?

I do want to get lost in the sticks and pebbles and perfection of a toddlers inquisitive face. I want to remember how he looked at me as if I was learning about rocks too.

I want to.

But I also want to remember the hard that doesn’t make it into photos and videos , how tired I was that crisp morning, how I got out there anyway, how I wanted to be there with him in those very moments of his firsts.

So I videoed it all for one day where I could view it through a different lens. Not to berate myself, but maybe to give myself some credit.

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