Remember when you were 10 years old and your much older cousin had a cute fat baby boy? I remember bouncing that cute fat baby boy on my knee and carrying him around the room on my hip every time they came up north to ours, or when we went down south to theirs. I remember taking him and his brothers, as teens, to see the 4th Indiana jones instalment (the rubbish one) and I remember going to theirs and commenting how much they’d shot up every time we saw them. He’s always been my sort of nephew and I am obviously a super cool auntie. So cool, that I’m pretty sure they don’t even call me auntie. That nephew of mine got married last weekend and it was a very nice, mad and surreal couple of days. My generation of siblings and cousins are no longer “the babies”. There’s a whole generation, or two, beneath us that are now settling down, finding partners, finding homes, finding their way.
It was surreal watching one of the babies get married and so lovely to see him so happy and ready to make that next step. It’s also surreal to realise I’m old(er) and wise(r…sort of). It wasn’t all dreamily gazing at the happy couple though. I forgot how mad toddlers can be and we basically had 48 hours of chasing him non stop around different venues. It’s currently like parenting a toddler version of the road runner. Of course time had made me completely forget that z was like this many years ago so I was somewhat unprepared for that bit of the wedding. At one point I even gave him my big camera to have five minutes of peace. So, on the plus side, I fully now remember to leave the two year old with a grandparent for the next wedding. And now both toddler and his big brother both love taking photos.