This week so far has been spent in the delightful company of my children. May I just say? They are pretty cool. Every now and then testosterone gets the better of my son; it bubbles up and has nowhere to go but to spill over. However, he is the most uncomplicated of souls; all blonde curls and boyish straight-forwardness. My daughter is all beauty and grace. They impressed me when we spent the afternoon helping out with their newest baby cousin. I loved that we could swoop in like a maternal 'big bird' and assist my very tired sister in law who enters week three of motherhood. She was able to sleep while we watched the baby; my children talked in whispers for over an hour and I had to cast my mind back to the days of nappy changes and that bizarre hard-wired mothering skill of rocking a baby to sleep.
I came away though still grateful that my kids are older and they can do stuff. The basic necessity of feeding and sleeping of a newborn was then juxtaposed with the ability and competence of my older children. In the evening, we went swimming and I watched as they leapt and sprang about, underwater, on the water. Thinking back to the days we taught them to swim. Or the day that they first learned to ride a bike. Or the first day of school. Or just standing at the kitchen window watching them on the swings outside, swinging high! It was just yesterday they were being rocked by me and now I am bystander in this new world they are creating. It's bizarre. And quite nice.
As ever, motherhood is a marathon not a sprint - you take each day as it comes. But each day brings something nearing greatness...even if it's found in the small things.