getting older

We went away a couple of weekends ago for Mountain Dad's birthday. There was a log cabin by a lake, peaceful snowy days and incredibly good children. I'd been nervous that we'd be cooped up and the kids'd be ratbags (as in not allowing me to read all day - selfish wee blighters), but they were gems. Shea and I reminisced about birthdays of the past and the cabin's we'd visited. Chatted about growing up and cabin's we've yet to visit in the future. It was gentle and calm and a little bit wistful for the past.

The romance of our dreamy musings was shattered a few days later when Little Ladie reiterated the sentiment, but in the harsh honesty of childhood. 

I'd been pushing the kids on the swings at the playground and moved from Lachlan to her. Earnestly throwing her legs backwards and forwards in a semblance of 'pumping' the swing she said,
"No Mum. I don't need you anymore."

I think I heard my heart break just a little. Time; she swings on.


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