Seeing the world through the eyes of a toddler is fascinating. The world is full of wonder, every day items are captivating.
I often see a friend’s little boy when we visit their home, they visit ours, or we go to the park.
Spending time with him gives me a glimpse in to a different world, one where Hugo lived and I am mother to an energetic toddler.
There is no denying that as much as I enjoy time with him, there is also inevitably a certain amount of emotional difficulty.
Our trips to each others’ houses, and to the park should involve keeping our eyes on two boys, not one.
But it is difficult to feel sad for long when with this toddler. For one, he doesn’t give you a chance to even think about it because he does not sit still for even one second. I cannot believe how quickly those little legs can transport him to whatever he shouldn’t be playing with!
In seriousness, though, it is difficult to be melancholy when in the company of a human being who thinks the world is full of infinite excitement and possibility and who isn’t afraid to show it.
Music means dancing, wherever you are. Whirlygigs, clothes pegs, books, taking selfies on the mobile, flicking through tabs on the iPad are not simple things, they are spellbinding.
But once you get bored with an item? Chuck it on the floor!
The stairs provide an adventure challenge. Not just the climbing up and getting down, but how many random objects you can hold on to while you are accomplishing those feats, too.
Seeing the cat is the best thing ever! (The cat however strongly disagrees).
With him, as with all young children there is no such thing as ‘can’t’. The world is theirs for the taking!
And oh, that smile… cheeky toothy grin to melt your heart.
It is a bittersweet glimpse in to what my life should be like.
Precious items up and out of the way of curious little hands. Toys and baby paraphernalia everywhere. Never being able to drink a cup of tea while it is warm. Nor having a meal to yourself. Going to the loo with an (impatient) audience.
I cannot help but think what Hugo would be like compared with the little boy. Would Hugo be like him: energetic, enthusiastic, headstrong, trying to talk, and very loving? Probably, judging from how he was during his life in his incubator.
When the little boy leaves, the debris is tidied away, our home feels too quiet. Too ordered. It needs a bundle of trouble running around, gabbling away.
Our home needs parents wishing they had eyes in the back of their heads, longer and more numerous arms. Wishing for more sleep!
Our home needs parents who wish for a bit of peace and quiet, instead of an absence of noise that is anything but tranquil, calm, or pleasant.
One day our family and our home will include a little brother or sister for Hugo. Our home will be full of the chaos children bring.
I am so looking forward to baby babble and giggles, needing eyes in the back of my head, and more and longer arms. Lack of sleep, not so much…but it is part of the deal, I guess.
I want those wishes to be granted. I want to be nurturing a living child, as well as nurturing the memory of a child no longer with us.
In the meantime, I live vicariously as a mother of a living child through my kind, loving, and understanding friends and glimpse a world that could have, should have been mine too.