Luke’s second birthday is fast approaching; as I’m writing this it’s twenty to midnight and I am wide awake. I have a severe case of ’emotional mummy’.

I know it’s very normal for mothers to get irrationally emotional over their children: milestones, slight injuries, growing up… But tonight I am experiencing it on a whole new level I’m not used to.

If I’m honest, I am terrified.

Terrified about how life is moving so fast. Before Luke, 2 years would seem like a relatively long time span, enough to change a lifestyle, build and break relationships, make some life altering career choices…the possibilities go on and on, and the time period would have allowed for many choices and opportunities that I could explore over time, with no rush.

The last two years have, clichéd as it sounds, indeed flown by! I’m terrified because I know that the years will just continue to keep flying past me and I am scared that I’ll miss something, anything. I don’t ever want to miss a thing; certain events over the last year have put things into perspective for me. Although Luke was never planned and although I am no longer in a relationship with his father, he is the single most important thing in my life. Sometimes I am exasperated by his toddler ways, I just want the day to hurry up and end. Other times I look at this not-so-tiny-anymore human and think, “I MADE you, I LOVE you so much and I want to be there for you FOREVER.”

My own mother was not there for me. It’s not something you notice so much in younger years, you just become accustomed to it. Early teens and onwards though you start to notice the relationships your friends have with their parents. During sleepovers, school events, bumping into them in town, you can just tell they have something you’ll never have and it hurts.

I never want to be that person to Luke. It sounds extreme, I know, I mean he’s only just about to turn two and I’m waffling on about neglectful parents and teenage years.

But I am terrified I’ll miss something huge in his life. I’ll miss a major milestone. I’ll miss something that perhaps, to me is nothing, but to him is everything.

Because it could be easily done, couldn’t it? He’s grown so much, so quickly. Developed so many skills, basically learned in the last 2 years how to BE. Before, he was just a helpless newborn baby, no way to communicate or move and now he’s this little person, who can tell me he’s hurt, if it’s too bright, if he’s hot or cold, if he wants food, if he wants to play.

How long will it be until he’s telling me more important things? What if I dismiss them as just general kid’s talk.

What if, this time next year, he’s turning three and somehow I wasn’t paying enough attention to him?