Each day I marvel at my life, I sit for just a minute or two…sometimes I’m only afforded 30 seconds, but I sit and say thank you for my beautiful life.

A friend visited me yesterday, she brought along her little lad, Liam. He is fresh from the oven so to speak, with only 4 months life experience. He is Lovely; cuddly, squishy, smiley, chubby, and delicious. Yes, I could eat him. He’s that adorable.

Visiting with Mel and Liam made me realise just how quickly the last few years have flown by. Literally flown by.

I  can’t believe it’s been five years since I first held my daughter, and now, the number of times I’ve held her or cuddled her is countless. The only way to measure it would be to measure the love she herself puts out into the universe.

I remember countless nights, just waiting for morning to come so another day would pass…literally wishing my time away. As Paisley screamed with colic for hours, all I could think of was the day she wouldn’t, and when would that be, and how many more nights would I have to spend this way?

Looking back now, I remember the soft early dawn light, when Pais finally stopped crying, and we would watch the sun slowly make its way above the horizon. I would hold her in my lap, sometimes I would be crying from sheer exhaustion, but other times, I would sit and hold her, thanking god for another beautiful day, thanking god that I had this beautiful, healthy child in my arms. I remember those quiet moments now and would give anything to have them back.

As adults we tend to forget the quiet times, amidst the craziness of our everyday lives, it’s not often that we just sit and take stock of the world around us. We are caught up in jobs, chores, the news, families, and friends; we forget that the flowers are just starting to peek out of winter soil, that the birds are up and singing far earlier than we are. We forget that even in the April snowstorms, there is still beauty and stillness to be admired.

When Paisley was sick a few weeks back, throwing up over and over, I sat there wishing it was over. I was losing money by not working for the day, I was tired after being up all night with her, I was horrified each time she emptied her tummy thinking “here we go again’…it wasn’t until later that I realised that I had the day cuddling, reading books and holding my daughter, just like when she was a baby…I again missed the beauty, wishing the illness would just end. Did I suffer from missing a days work? In retrospect, no, not really. Did I catch up on my sleep? Yes, of course I did.

I, like so many others need to stop, take stock and admire the beauty around us. See the sun filtering though the windows with dust motes dancing in the rays; notice the grass is greener than it was just a short week ago. Take a moment to talk, and listen to your child, REALLY listen to them. Play your favourite song, and feel the music, dance and sing like no one is watching, judging, or listening to you. Take a few minutes to enjoy something, anything. Just enjoy it.

Our life is short, our children grow up so quickly, sleepless nights with colic will soon turn into sleepless nights while your child has your car keys, that friend you meant to have a coffee with might move away, your parent won’t always be there, call them to chat.

Enjoy your day, THIS day. It’s the only one you’ll ever have just like it. It will never be the same again.