To be crying at this

[appledoors]

I saw it on TikTok, then noticed it shared on Facebook too. I usually hate soppy sentimental crap but the fact that I am that exact age (32) right now (and very PMS-y) and I don’t know it just hit a nerve 😭

…………….

I'm 80 years old, and somehow..

I woke up in my 32 year old body.

Just for one day.

I wake up to little hands tugging at the blankets.

"Mummy, wake up!" they shout.

I blink, and I sit up slowly.

My babies. They're small again!

I gasp. I cry.

They climb into bed giggling, wiggling.

I used to rush through mornings.. but not today.

I pull them close.
I hug them tight.
I kiss their messy hair.
I hold their little hands.

This time, I soak in every second.

I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

No deep lines.
No grey hair.
My younger face...
I used to think I looked old at 41.

What a silly thought.

I stare for a moment and think, "You are so beautiful."

I find my husband in the kitchen, making coffee.
He looks strong, young.

I wrap my arms around him so tightly.

He looks surprised.

Maybe we didn't hug enough back then, I think.

We talk about the day nothing big.

But today, it all feels big.

I memorise the sound of his voice.

We pile into the car, kids arguing over seatbelts.
Someone drops a snack.
Crumbs everywhere.

I used to get so frustrated.

I soak in the noise, the chaos I know my car will be quiet and spotless for many years to come.

But I'll miss the mess.

Dinner is loud and unorganised.
No one wants to sit still.
There's shouting, giggling, a little arguing and so much life.

I don't clean up right away.

I just sit and watch.

Trying to burn it all into my memory.

Before bed, I pick up the phone.

I call my mum. And I hear her voice.

Mum..MUM.

I haven't heard this voice in so many years..
I close my eyes and let her words wash over me.
I tell her I love her again and again.
I never want to hang up.

This time, I don't leave anything unsaid.

At bedtime, I don't skip pages in the story.
Not tonight.
I read every single word.
Then I ask, "Can we read one more book?"
They say yes.
I don't want this day to end.

I got one more day.

And this time, I knew.
This was joy.
This was love.
Those little hands.
The loud, messy dinners.
Our strong, young bodies with no aches or pains.
Our parents who are still alive..

It all mattered so much more than we ever realised.

lol

😂😂😂😂

I am quite a sentimental fool so it resonated with me - maybe because my kids are 13 and 15 and so we’re out of the annoying baby/toddler stage but it’s not so long that I’ve totally forgotten. Sometimes I’ll go into my 15 year olds room when he’s asleep and he’s laying like a cactus, like he did when he was a tiny baby, and I just think HOW are you 15, shaving and so much taller than me in the blink of an eye?

Anyway, when my 13 year old plonks himself right on me on the sofa and strokes my hair, I just think “remember this and how sweet and lovely he is”.

I also told my older son last week how much of a joy he was, what good company he is, how funny, smart and interesting he is and how I am loving watching him grow up. I want him to always know how much he means to me.

I can’t listen to Sunscreen without crying either.

At first I was like “yeah it’s the PMS girl” but having recently had a biopsy that is now slapping me in the face with how quickly everything changes, I’m also holding back tears on the bus on my way to work.

At first I was like “yeah it’s the PMS girl” but having recently had a biopsy that is now slapping me in the face with how quickly everything changes, I’m also holding back tears on the bus on my way to work.

I felt about 80 in my 30s with two small children. 40+ has been much better.

I miss their smell more than anything.

Ds smelt of toast and sunshine
Dd smelt of melted butter and golden syrup.

It's nostalgia, rose tinted glasses and not realising what you've got until it's gone.

Except that the reality was that you were bogged down with life crap, touched out by babies and toddlers, there was never enough money and you were always in need of a HP style time turner to get everything done.

I remember the first time I heard Abba's Slipping Through My Fingers and having a similar reaction. My children were still at school. And I panicked thinking of all the time I wasted by not being there enough and how I wasn't appreciating everything enough. Made no difference to the way we lived though 😅

It's like going on holiday and being all chilled and relaxed and promising yourself that, when you get back to Birmingham, you're going to continue to live 'a little more Cornwall' but you get back and it's forgotten by the time the tent is back in the loft...

In short, it's unrealistic, sentimental bollocks. Don't fall for it!

Exactly. It's basically saying "well this is as good as its going to get for you". Having small children is lovely but relentless. Can I have the version when I get a Saturday as a 22 year old living in London and doing whatever I want? Or the version where I'm 42 and my kids can wipe their own bottoms and tell me reasonably what they want?

On the flip side - how about an overwhelmed mum living as an 89 year old for a day - go to yu toilet alone,read a book, have lunch quietly etc.

Each stage has pros and cons

Christ, that's awful.
It only stirs my inner cringe.

it sounds like AI. Perhaps it isn’t though, and real people have picked up that style of writing.

I get this.

When my first was born, we were homeless and in a dire situation for many reasons. I did my best to protect him from all the negatives in our lives and I look at him now at 26, a graduate in a good career out earning me and i can see our whole lives in him. I'm aware that, with a few different decisions, it could have been both so much better but also so, so much worse. It seems like it passed in the blink of an eye and yet I still feel the 'lifetime'ness of it.

My youngest was premature and we nearly lost her. She's just finished her first year at university and I have no idea where those 19 years went. Lost in the blur of life, I guess!

Me too

It bears no relation to my life at 32 (or any other age) but I think in general, we tend to remember the best bits and the worst bits of the past, whereas the reality is there are long mundane phases. If I were to have a day trip to the past, I'd go back much further than 32, probably to my childhood.

This poem does nothing for me because I know I spent fun times with my kids and family over the years - in between the stressy times!
My parents visit us once a week every week -it used to not necessarily be at a convenient time for us, now we have a regular time that as the kids are older mostly works (house less messy). I used to get irritated by this because the stress of a house with small kids and having to tidy and hide washing so my mum didn’t start folding it (don’t know why this irritated me!). Then I heard a radio programme, I think it must have been a clip but can’t remember where. It was the radio presenter in America asking a man how old his parents were (70) and how often he saw them a year (1-2 times). He asked the man whether he thought they would live to they were 80 (yes) and then said so you have 10 years left- a long time, yes, but that’s only 10-20 times more that you will see actually them. It made me reevaluate my parents visiting and me finding it an inconvenience/irritating. It’s the only thing I’ve heard that made me regret how I was feeling at the time, it also made me realise that my parents would not live forever. They are in their 80’s now.

This is why I love being a grandmother. I can go back in time for the day and enjoy it again.

😭😭😭

Sending a handhold @Shewasafaireh.

Wow! Calm down, please. It was well meant.

I hear you x

It’s mawkish guff intended to make women think the gruntwork is supposed to be a high point of their lives. Fuck that.

Not even an eyeroll?

I would love another day in one particular year before eldest DC's SEN became so apparent and limiting and they were still able to go to school, while DH was still healthy, when I was living in a country I loved in a job I felt fulfilled by, learning an interesting language and making friends left right and centre. To be able to talk again to my dad before he died and to my mum before dementia took over, and to stop my other family member going to work the night he was killed. And to place hefty bets on Leicester winning the league the year they did

Is it not quite a common sentiment?