*Five Minute Friday is an initiative set up by Lisa-Jo Baker over at Surprised by Motherhood. It has now been taken over by Kate over at Heading Home. The basic premise is to take the word Kate gives and write, non-stop for 5 minutes. Then you stop and post. Read more about it here. This October, I am taking part in a series based on this called “31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes”, in which we commit to writing from the prompt as usual, but everyday rather than just on a Friday. Read more here.
I wish I could capture it for you. The exact way her mouth twists as she does her little half-smile when we’ve made her giggle.
I wish I could capture the giggle itself, the one that starts from deep down inside her and bubbles up until she can no longer contain it anymore and it simply explodes out of her.
I wish I could capture the image of the little curl at the back of her head – her strawberry blonde hair straight until it reaches her neck and twists and turns in a way you can never quite tame, and wouldn’t want to anyway.
I wish I could capture the exact shade of blue of her eyes, the one that doesn’t seem to match anything else in the world. The colour that is somewhere in between the sun-splashed sea and a clear, cloudless sky.
I wish I could capture her run, the confidence with which she takes off, the cackle as she chases or runs from or to, the determination in those little legs, the semi-permanent almost-drunk-looking wobble when she gets tired.
I wish I could capture her beauty, the gorgeousness that seeps from the inside out and changes daily but always remains.
I wish I could capture her cuddles, the way she tilts her face up to ask for a kiss, the way she stretches her arms up for a hug, the warmth of her as she leans into me and puts her small arms around my neck, the way she climbs into my lap.
I wish I could capture her cheekiness, her fiery independence, her funny little quirks, the way she practically empties the tub splashing at bathtime, the many many ways she makes us laugh daily.
But even more, I wish I could capture it for me.
Because she is growing up so fast. Too fast. And there is already so much that has passed, that I remember only vaguely, that I wish I had taken more time to enjoy. And I know that this, too, shall pass.
And I wish I could hold onto it for just a little longer.