The next bit

There’s something about summer holiday memories that seem to crystallise exactly what the children were like at that moment. Like a hypercolour snapshot of the very essence of them that jumps off the screen and hits you hard when you look back the photographs or something reminds you of a certain moment. It’s different from the everyday humdrum of family life and it’s quite tender and sweetly painful.

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When I look at these I can feel the weight of them on my knee, hear their chatter, smell their sunkissed still warm from the sun limbs. And I know I will still be able to do all of those things long after family holidays become a thing of the past.

Kids plus beaches equals happiness

The coastline we visited is peppered with beaches and rocky outcrops. Some were more suitable for the kids than others. Some days we bathed on the pebbly beaches and the kids played for hours in the waves. One day we stayed on the small beach at Nervi harbour. Both options were beautiful. Being at the beach was a great contrast to the days we spent exploring the city with a slower pace and less hustle and bustle. We were amazed how long the kids played for and eventually we had to convince them to come home.

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We even somehow ended up in the water on the way home from dinner one night. As you do.

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Ciao

It’s that time again.

I didn’t look at the photographs I took on holiday until today. We had such a great time I put off looking back at it because maybe the images wouldn’t match up to those in my head. The beautiful colours and the warmth of the light.

Italy was gorgeous. I had never been and I’ll admit I went holding romantic notions in my head of what it would be like. It turned out to be better. The people we met were warm and the food delicious and the waves were mesmerising.

And the photos - well I’ll let you decide for yourselves.

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These were all taken on one of the days we went into the city. It turns out 4 is too young for a city open to bus tour. Ask me how I know?

We visited the children’s museum which was fantastic and explored the port area.

There’s much more to come friends, hold tight.

Dix ans

Hey Brodie,

This is a post I am writing because you turned 10 (2 months ago but don’t hold that against me).

Ten years ago it was just me and you. Long days of feeding, changing, rocking, singing and desperately trying to work out what might make you happier.

It turns out not much worked. But that’s ok.

You taught me how to parent.

Your vulnerability and dependence and the fact that you preferred me over everyone else around ( I tried everyone else I could find) made me believe that no matter what it might look like from the outside we were building a bond. Even though you cried a lot, you cried at me, with me, on me. You also smiled and giggled and we had a million reciprocal conversations made up of gurgles and coos. Even though I felt completely unqualified and definitely not the right person for the job most days, you insisted I was.

Those hours I spent with you and you with me, that investment has made me very wealthy. I now get to hang out with you and have conversations using actual words. And boy do you know a lot of words. We challenge each other often with opposing arguments and different points of view. And even though you don’t double your weight in a few months anymore, still you keep changing and shifting and developing and delighting me at every turn.

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