Have you ever thought of your life as being a round birthday cake?
No I hadn't either and then it occurred to me that this isn't such a bizarre analogy...stick with me on this one, it does make sense.
Let's say you viewed your entire life as a birthday cake with each slice representing an important milestone. As you make your way around the cake in a clockwise direction and remove slices, you can recognise the achievements you've made.
When you are born, you remove the first slice and look at a cross-section (sideways on). There you are in your mother's arms in the hospital, dressed in your white baby grow, possibly gurgling, more probably asleep, little eyes tightly shut. Eat the slice.
Remove the second slice. Now you're up on your little legs, walking around the furniture gurgling proudly to yourself and so on. Go on, take a bite.
Yesterday, Dassi removed a slice from her cake and looked at it. It was our tour around a secondary school, potentially the one she'll attend next September. It was a large slice, with quite a bit of icing on top. We viewed the classrooms, talked to the teachers and did a lot of both wandering and wondering. It was a slice that we needed to digest properly, to really ensure that it would be worthy of it's place in the pantheon of her life to date. For me, it was a slice that I was very proud to partake of, even the crumbs were noteworthy.
My cake is halfway eaten. I've eaten a fair number of slices, some which were easier to digest, others which took quite a number of bites to get through.
What does yours look like today?
No I hadn't either and then it occurred to me that this isn't such a bizarre analogy...stick with me on this one, it does make sense.
Let's say you viewed your entire life as a birthday cake with each slice representing an important milestone. As you make your way around the cake in a clockwise direction and remove slices, you can recognise the achievements you've made.
When you are born, you remove the first slice and look at a cross-section (sideways on). There you are in your mother's arms in the hospital, dressed in your white baby grow, possibly gurgling, more probably asleep, little eyes tightly shut. Eat the slice.
Remove the second slice. Now you're up on your little legs, walking around the furniture gurgling proudly to yourself and so on. Go on, take a bite.
Yesterday, Dassi removed a slice from her cake and looked at it. It was our tour around a secondary school, potentially the one she'll attend next September. It was a large slice, with quite a bit of icing on top. We viewed the classrooms, talked to the teachers and did a lot of both wandering and wondering. It was a slice that we needed to digest properly, to really ensure that it would be worthy of it's place in the pantheon of her life to date. For me, it was a slice that I was very proud to partake of, even the crumbs were noteworthy.
My cake is halfway eaten. I've eaten a fair number of slices, some which were easier to digest, others which took quite a number of bites to get through.
What does yours look like today?
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