Five minutes

Prompt:  Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2010 in five minutes. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2010.

I love this one because it makes me focus on the very positive and not the negative, which is my usual tack given that I am definitely a glass half empty type of person.
So what would I want to grasp onto for 2010...

My baby's first birthday. We had the day together. It was gloriously sunny and we went for a long walk, her chattering and babbling in her pram as I stopped off to buy her a present and then take her for a photoshoot where she performed like a pro, cooing and smiling for the camera. I of course was convinced (still am) she is the most beautiful baby in the entire universe and my heart swelled with pride as she made it all look effortless.

I suppose a lot of my "must keep" memories are tied up with Cara. Being so young, this has been a year of firsts. Her first steps, her first words, the first time I put her hair in pigtails, the pair of red patent shoes she wore so proudly, her obsession with her "bellies" (wellies), her giggles, her declaration that "Joe's funny" over and over again as she plays with her big brother.

Most memorable of all perhaps is the snow which fell just two weeks ago. The two children went out to play and their faces lit up like Christmas trees, full of wonder and excitement as big, fat flakes fell softly to the ground. It amazed me that their hands never seemed to get too cold - they would have stayed out there all day if I'd not been afraid of hypothermia setting in. That day, those moments, were perfection.

It's hard to quantify other moments - perhaps it was searching through rock pools with Joseph in the early summer or taking him to the Giant's Causeway and watching his face look on with wonder. Our trip to the Ulster Museum where we saw a "real life mummy" was another highlight - the boy still talks about it.

But so many of the memories I want to keep are the hugs, the softness of my children's skin, the way they smile, their babyish voices, their innocence.
It's not the Norwegian book deal, or the resigning with Poolbeg, or Jumping in Puddles entering the top ten, or indeed Feels Like Maybe reentering the top ten - it is those precious, intangible, private moments when I feel like a good mammy. I wouldn't swap those for the world.