Remembering when my youngest child was about 4.
I was working both on and off farm. He was going to pre-school, tagging along with me and spending the odd day with his Grandma.
He was so funny. I wish I could’ve enjoyed him more.
It frustrated me no end. I was desperately unhappy.
I was struggling in a business that wasn’t working. In a relationship that was breaking down. A partner with views at the other extreme to my own, 3 kids, a mortgage and next to no sleep.
We never went anywhere. He asked me if the beach was real.
This little fellow had so many ideas. They bubbled out of him in an endless stream of chatter and he never stopped. Ever. He didn’t sleep at night. He was up before dawn every day and I was emotionally and physically a wreck. I was completely burnt out.
Now, I look back at those times and feel I was so blessed to have had this amazing kid following me around, his energy, his excitement about life and his chatter were probably all that I survived on. And I took it for granted. I didn’t appreciate it or get to see how precious it was. I was stuck, just trying to survive. Just trying to get by, trying to fix everything that was falling apart around me and I didn’t stop to enjoy him.
I remember one particular day, it was freezing cold, Northern Tablelands June day, we had wethers in wool, and one was stuck, having a moment, in a gully. So, here I am, all 50 kilograms of me, down in a gully trying to drag this wet, freezing creature out, he was bigger than me and determined to die. My ever helpful 4 year old is supervising, holding a kelpie pup at the top of the gully; he yells to me “Put him on your back Mumma!”, I almost choked laughing! Helpful advice.
How precious. And how blessed I was, in those difficult times to have a little person who kept me going. Even if I couldn’t see it then.