Every time I think about this question, I realise the same thing: the current stage always feels like my favourite one.
Maybe that’s the quiet magic of motherhood — every stage comes with its own good and bad, and sometimes you appreciate a phase more in hindsight than when you were actually living it. You don’t always know you’re in a “favourite stage” until it becomes a memory.
The Newborn Stage: Too New, Too Overwhelming, Too Fragile
If I’m honest, the newborn stage was definitely not my favourite. He felt so fragile, like one wrong move could break him. I was constantly worried something would happen to him.
When we came home from the hospital, we were so anxious that for the first two nights, one of us stayed awake watching him while the other rested. We quickly realised we couldn’t keep going like that — exhaustion was waiting around the corner — but that’s how overwhelming those early days felt.
And yet, even in that fear, there were magical moments. The tiny fingers wrapped around mine. The warm weight of him sleeping on my chest. The alien‑looking little face that somehow belonged to us.
Those were the first moments of falling in love with him.
The 3–6 Month Shift: When Connection Begins
I think I started enjoying motherhood more around the 3–6 month mark. He was more responsive, he could finally hold his head (I wasn’t anxious every second), he smiled sometimes, he became chubbier, and he clearly recognised my voice.
That recognition changes everything — suddenly you’re not just caring for a baby, you’re connecting with a person.
Now when I see moms pushing strollers in malls or parks, I always wonder why I felt so anxious about taking him places. We didn’t stay home all the time, but I feel we could have moved around more.
Part of it was practical — we always needed the car, and he didn’t love the carseat. And once he fell asleep in a terrible neck position, which made me even more cautious.
Recently we spent time in Budapest, and our accommodation was so central with a beautiful park next door. I felt a little grief thinking about how different my parental leave would have been if my environment had been like that. I could have gone for walks in two seconds. There was a mall nearby. Everything was accessible. Your environment really shapes your experience.
Crawling: The Commando Phase and the Speedy Phase
The crawling stage deserves its own chapter because it was such a funny, chaotic, and surprisingly long phase.
He started with the commando crawl — that army‑style dragging of the body across the floor — and he did it for ages. It was adorable and hilarious, and he was fast. Faster than I expected. He could cross the room in seconds.
Then one day he switched to normal crawling, and suddenly he was unstoppable. It was like watching a tiny athlete discover his superpower.
I think this efficiency is one of the reasons he walked late, around 14–15 months. Why walk when crawling gets you everywhere faster?
Walking and Running: The Dangerous Freedom Phase
When he finally started walking, it was one of my favourite stages — but also one of the most dangerous.
Half the time he was somewhere between walking and running, and we live in a hilly area. He wanted to run downhill before he was ready, and my heart stopped at least ten times a day.
But he learned quickly. He learned balance. He learned speed. He learned confidence.
Now he’s an expert hill‑runner, and watching him move through the world with so much joy feels like witnessing freedom in its purest form.
The Communication Explosion
Now we’re in the communication stage, and I love it. It must be frustrating for him sometimes — and for us — when we don’t understand what he wants. There were many tantrums, and still are, but pointing and speaking helps so much.
We’re a multilingual family, so he hears three languages daily. I didn’t expect him to speak early, but after our month in Hungary he suddenly started talking more, and since we came back he’s like a sponge.
Today at the Saturday market, he held his soft toy dog, saw a real dog, pointed at both and said “kuka” — dog in Telugu. A lady was so impressed. Moments like that make everything worth it.
I love the way he says things — it’s so cute, but I guess all toddlers sound adorable. Now he points at himself when I say his name or nicknames.
He loves football, collecting things, throwing balls, kicking them. He loves vehicles — playing with them, watching real ones, naming them. And animals, in books, toys, and real life.
Once he started walking, we could finally go to playgrounds more, and that opened a whole new world.
The Lap Moments: When He Becomes My Little Hen
One of my favourite things lately is when he brings his books to wherever we’re sitting — the couch, the floor, anywhere — and then climbs onto my lap. He sits there so naturally, like it’s the most obvious place in the world to be.
Sometimes he reverses slowly, and I can see his little bummy inching closer and closer to my lap, like a tiny hen settling onto her eggs. His warm weight, his trust, the way he relaxes instantly — I could hug him like that forever.
These are the moments that feel so ordinary and yet so perfect.
The Terrible Two (But Also the Cutest Two)
Although I know he has already started his “terrible two” phase — and I’m not sure if it will get worse — I also feel he is cuter than ever. He sleeps so sweetly, often hugging me or touching me in his sleep. It’s impossible to stay frustrated when you wake up to a tiny hand resting on your arm.
I’m constantly surprised by how capable toddlers are, how willing they are to help, how much they understand even when they can’t fully express it. We’ve started a new routine where we put things away together — his vehicles, his books, everything. We say bye‑bye to them, and he loves it. It signals that it’s time to go to bed, it teaches him something useful, and it means we don’t have to clean the house after he sleeps (if we still have any energy left). Waking up to a tidier home feels like a small miracle.
Yesterday I had to take care of him while I was sick, and I didn’t have any energy to leave the house. I expected chaos, but instead he behaved so well. We read books, cooked, and ate together. It was so much nicer than I expected — a reminder that even the “terrible two” stage has its gentle, golden moments.
The Bittersweet Realisation: I Will Miss These Early Years
It’s hard to believe he’ll be two soon. Time really does fly, and I’m trying to appreciate every moment I spend with him.
It’s funny — when he’s not around, we just keep talking about him. I guess sometimes you need a little distance to miss someone. When you’re with someone all the time, you don’t necessarily appreciate the moments in the same way. But once they’re away, you realise your time is limited, and you want to enjoy it fully.
I think I will really miss these early stages. Humans — like any other animals — are the cutest at this age. I’m happy we have videos and photos to look back on when he’s older, maybe even an adult.
When I asked my mom what her favourite stage was, she said the same: around 2–3 years old. I guess she didn’t mean the terrible twos.
Looking Ahead: The Future Versions of Him
I’m excited to see the future stages — how he’ll form and change, how his interests will show more and more. I want to show him the world, piece by piece.
Sometimes I question whether I’m a good mother. I think everyone has moments like that, when they don’t feel like they shine. But then there are times when I realise kids don’t need millions of toys. They need us. Our presence. Our attention. Our love.
And maybe that’s enough.
So What’s My Favourite Stage?
Honestly — this one. And probably the next one too.
Because every stage feels like a new version of him, and a new version of me. And maybe motherhood isn’t about choosing a favourite stage — maybe it’s about realising how lucky we are to witness them.
I’d love to know — which stage of motherhood or childhood has been your favourite?
If you enjoy reflections like this, you might also like motherhood identity or aging reflections.
