Bloody kids

Bloody kids… wrapped around my legs

As any mother knows, something about being the one who delivers babies into the world guarantees you get the greatest love and the greatest anger directed your way. The great thing is you get the greatest love, but when they don’t get their way and you’re the obstacle… well watch out. Now, I absolutely appreciate the love and devotion I get from my boys. It is the most remarkable thing to be loved that way. I mean, let’s face it, the sun rises and sets with Mumma, but when am I going to stop tripping over them as they are constantly under my feet? And when are they going to sleep in their own beds (rather than on my head) so I can get a decent night’s sleep?

Sometimes it feels like they want to be so close to me, they wouldn’t mind getting back inside and being all safe and snug. Where ever I am they want to be. I can’t even take a piss without both of them hanging around, stealing the toilet paper or trying to munch on the toilet brush, saying “Mumma’s doing a wee wee!”

I have definitely noticed that boys are much clingier than girls – so if you’ve got girls, lucky you! But then, mothers of boys always appreciate the affection and closeness they have with their boys for many years – so it’s not all bad. The cuddles I get from my lads on any day are very special. And when they’re sick, well that’s a whole new world of cuddles, and Mumma is always the preference.

I was hoping my six day sojourn to Singapore would break the dependency just a little bit, because the reality is, I am the only constant in their lives, especially as Steve travels for work so much. But since returning I actually think they’re clingier. Bless their precious little hearts.

I suppose I’d just like a few moments of peace every day, just five minutes so I can wake up enough to embrace my day before the onslaught begins? I know I’ll miss it when these days are over….

Yours, without the bollocks

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