I can’t be alone in staring at my children in much the same way I ogle a stunning designer dress on Pinterest (that I will never own)? How many millions of us creep in every night and stare with amazement and longing (to wake them and eat their little chubby cheeks and fragile ear shells) at our slumbering bubs?
The sense of longing is a strange one.
- I long to devour them, if only they’d submit and refrain from wiping my slobbery kisses away!
- I long to cradle them in my arms and sing to them. If only they’d fit in my puny arms.
- I long to have them fall asleep, drooling on my chest, just to feel their warmth. In reality, they’d squirm and suffocate me (and elbow me in the baps).
- Most of all I long to hold them in freeze frame, for ever.
How long will they call me ‘Mummy’? When will it not be cool to be kissed at the school gate? Do I have many months left before they stop running to me for a cuddle and a plaster?
The bear was stung 13 times by wasps on Wildlife Camp last week, he had a headache from crying so much (my heart broke), when I offered Calpol he told me “it’s ok Mummy, I can handle it”. Proud doesn’t cover it. But, my obsession with making my children brave may now be coming to fruition and the result … less cuddles for me! Go on my boy.
They aren’t mine. They are gifted to me to love, mould and release. I’m just the lucky old badger who gets to hang about with these two smashers, for as long as they’ll let me.
It’s exquisitely beautiful and excruciatingly painful.
These days are a heady mess of lollipops, loo roll and love. Each day seems to pass quicker than the time it takes me to ‘cook’ their sausage and chips.
The magic, to me, seems to lie in raising them happy and independent AND not screw it up; so they still want to fly back to you when your laundry bin is empty.
So I’m going to keep staring at them like a stalker with intent, I’ll wrestle all the cuddles and kisses I can AND I’ll try to be an ok-ish human … so that my sticky-mitted yo-yo’s still want to roll back into the fold when they’re all biggered up.