The way he talks to him as he changes him, the little hand outstretched as he tries to avoid being laid down. I thought, before I became a parent, that the moments of parenting triumph would be teaching the kids to ride their bikes, or baking together or afternoons on the beach. Those moments are so special but I find myself drawn into the familiarity and sweet rewarding domesticity of moments like this. Our moments, the quiet honour of knowing each other so well that I can predict what will happen next, like a script to a film I love so well.
We drove out to Caboolture today to sort some paperwork out at the Department of Transport and while Daddy ran in we amused ourselves in the car. I let this little guy into the front seat and he was well pleased from his promotion from baby back seat to driver.
It is so lovely living next door to my brother’s family. The children play together endlessly and even though he’s small, Florin often tags along. 4 bigger kids on the lookout for him and live-in playmates for all. In the “winter” evenings they run around hunting kindling and we stand around a warm fire pit. This – this is a lot like the childhood I imagined for our kids, long days of playing outdoors and family and friends to share it with. We feel so lucky to have found ourselves living that dream.