Gone girl – and gone boys

A friend of mine had a baby recently, and as I marvelled at the perfect little ears and teeny pink fists of the adorable bundle in my arms, I was filled with an overwhelming gratitude that this gorgeous baby was not mine. Notwithstanding her irresistible newborn smell and the endearing way she scrunched her mouth as she slept, all I could think about was the utter grind of new babies.

 

When I look back on my own three experiences of infancy, they blur together in one smear of laundry and feeds and changing and colic that form a kind of tunnel in which the light at the end was an occasional night's sleep.

 

I remember wishing fervently for the stage when my little darling would remain unconscious for more than a few hours. When that stage arrived, I longed for the day when I could leave the house without a boot-load of food, nappies, toys, and changes of clothes. The next Holy Grail was toilet training, and, after that, starting school.

 

I honestly believed that once my babies started school, the job of child-rearing was virtually done. That was when I lived in blissful ignorance of evenings spent poring over phonics, spelling and colouring in – and of course, standing at the side of a freezing football pitch or collecting somebody from Irish dancing.

 

It was only recently I realised we had arrived at a stage in my kids' lives that seemed just right, when we could actually have interesting conversations. It was then my Leaving Certer announced that he would like to go to Australia after college. Before this revelation had a chance to sink in, my Second Year boy declared that he was planning to go to Canada. My girl was too busy attempting a fish-tail plait in the back seat to contribute, but all at once I had a vision of huddling alone by the fire with the now-ancient dog, flicking through photos of my grandchildren on Bondi Beach.

 

Maybe by then some bright spark from MIT or Kinsale Community College will have discovered how to freeze children at the perfect age, whatever that is. In the meantime, I realised that you really have to enjoy your kids just as they are now because the day they cease to be hard work is the day they're gone.