It's been another week of utterly rubbish weather. Lots of rain and cold temperatures, yes I know it's Winter but a little sunshine would be nice. This of course has meant that the school runs have been indeed been rather wet, much to my youngest's delight as she's popped on her wellies and gone splashing in as many muddy puddles as she possibly can.
I snapped the above picture as she went running off into the distance and it got me thinking (as you do) about how even though my children are indeed getting older, bigger, growing up before my eyes, they still seem small to me, well technically Layla herself is still a tiny specimen, at 3 and half she still fits into most 18-24 month old clothes.
However gone are the days of needing pushchairs, my girls are all very much independent, walking along without even the need to hold my hand, confident enough to speed off infront of me without any thought of looking back. But even as they grow I can't help but think of them as my babies and I don't think I'll ever stop thinking of them like this, even when they begin to tower above my little 5 foot frame.
It's a strange thought though isn't it, that even when we become fully grown adults our parents still see us their babies, my own mum tells me the same all of the time but it wasn't until I had kids that I understood what she really meant by it. But I guess we all remain needing our mums and dads in one way or another, a shoulder to cry on or just a bit of company, I suppose that is something none of us will ever grow out of. We'll always be someone's child.