To Elijah @ almost 6!

To my Darling Elijah,

Hey sweet man, I had to count up the months on my fingers to realise you are very much on the way to 6. What a big year it has been for you. Your very first year at school almost over and you have nailed it. Like a boss! I had so many worries about how you would go at school, how you would sit still, how you would follow the rules, how you would hold the chat. But to my surprise you have excelled. Your teacher speaks  highly of you, you are doing so well.  And I am so very, very proud.

I am also proud of the relationship you have with Joseph. You adore him and he adores you. Watching you together makes my heart swell. You are so patient and loving with him, its truly beautiful. My wish is that you two will always stay as close as you are now.

I love watching you growing up. The independence that is creeping in, seeing you do big boy things. I have to remind myself not to hold you back sometimes. You have the loveliest sense of humour, you never fail to crack me up. We get each other, we have a similar sense of humour. I love that. Unfortunately, you also seem to share my sporting prowess, for which I truly apologise!. You are flamboyant and dramatic, and your imagination is insane! I swear one day your name will be up in lights.


Elijah you are such an incredible little person. You are so very loving and so very kind. You declare what is in your heart with enthusiasm and without embarrassment. I love that you still love having me help in the class, and still give me kisses in front of your friends. I will be sad when these days pass. I love that you tell me I look beautiful, even when I look like a bag lady, how you lavish praise out of the blue, totally unprompted. So heartfelt. So precious. You are a beautiful soul,  inside and out.

 I love you to the moon and back and I always will.

To Joseph at 18 months

To My dearest Joe,

It feels weird even writing 18 months. I can hardly get my head around the fact that you, my baby boy are 18 months. It seems like just yesterday that you came into  our world, but on the other hand  I cannot remember a life without you in it.

You have changed so much in the past few months. You tackle life head on, fearless and always in a rush. You don't really walk, instead you look  to be constantly on the verge of running on those beautiful, chubby little legs. And climb! I swear you give me palpitations on a daily basis, often more than once. I thought you were going to be my cruisy, laidback one, but now- you are my wild man for sure! 

Cuddles, well you certainly love those. I love how you play and then every so often just come for a cuddle, almost like a reassurance that I am still there, and a reassurance that you still love me.  Being able to have this one on one time with you has been magical and I feel so blessed. When I carried you in my belly I used to worry how I could have enough love to give to another child, I needn't have worried. We have such a strong bond you and I.

Watching the love you have for your big brother, and he for you,  is exquisite. No one can make you laugh like Elijah can. He is so very patient with you, gentle with you. When you are hurt, he hurts too. This loving relationship  makes me so very proud, lets me know as parents we may get stuff wrong, but this we have got so very right.

Joseph,  you have this way, just like Elijah does of making people love you. You are not shy and will go to anyone, but you reserve your biggest cuddles for your favourite people. You have such a beautiful, ready smile. I love watching it spread across your face, until every inch of you is smiling. That smile can fix even my worst day.

Joseph, you delight me. You are naturally funny, you are clever, you are crazy gorgeous and just plain crazy. You push me to my absolute limits at times, but give me so much love. You help me to see the wonder in the world, remind me to slow down and just be. I love you to the moon and back little man, and I always will

Things I thank my kids for....... or NOT!

This mummy doesn’t drink. You know how some mummy’s let off steam with a nice cold glass of wine (or 6)at the end of a long day/week/month? Yeah well I don’t drink. I don’t drink, therefore I blog.  If I didn’t blog occasionally, I might just spontaneously combust. Most of the time though I am a real little ray of sunshine, ask anyone. Today is not one of those days.  So remember that before you get all Judgy McJudgerson on me and read on if you dare (and please note: sense of humour is required before reading further)

Things I Spank  thank my Kids for….

 Not eating food- thank you for not eating the meals I so lovingly prepare for you, making sure they are nutritionally balanced, tasty, appealing and provide variety (even though your father and I are having bangers and mash for the 5th time this week!). I just love it when you spit it out,   throw it on the floor or mash it through your hair. It’s even better though watching  you hoover up a commercial baby food with gusto –regardless of the fact it has a funky chemical taste and makes your breath smell like dog food! I guess I can take solace in the fact that if its left on the floor long enough, you will be swooping on that morsel  like a junkie on a baggie of cocaine

 Making mess- I love it when I have spent the whole time you were sleeping/at school , cleaning and then when you wake up/ get home from school you go from room to room creating a trail of destruction. I mean, I know you are just ensuring that my days don’t become too boring with no cleaning to do- however would I fill those long, long days! So thanks, really, you’re doing me a solid.  Afterall, no one likes a bored mummy!

Not pooing – Its always super fun when you need to do a poo and you refuse to. You jump around like a tasered monkey on speed, clutching your bottom cheeks whilst screaming “I don’t need a poo, I don’t need a poo”. I mean, doing a poo when you need one is like, so yesterday!  It gets even better though  when your screaming, crying and thrashing results in waking your sleeping brother, or better still- a wet bed at midnight.

Not sleeping- by all means, wake me up 3854 times a night. I love being woken to hear you had a bad dream, need a wee, need a drink- not tap water, cold water!, scratched your ear, feel lonely, feel cold, feel hot, feel like a chat. It’s really so super fun being so tired you yawn whilst deodorising and inhale a lung full of anti-perspirant!!  Sleeping is over rated anyway.

Screaming- I am a lover of languages, and I particularly love it when you speak to me for days on end in the language of scream. It is so soothing and calming, really it is, and so good for my nerves. But obviously   you just  realise I am advancing in age and if it’s not screamed at me, then my aged ears clearly won’t hear it. . I also love the added thrill I get when you are screaming, so I pick you up, and you arch your back as if to execute a double backwards pike with a 9 degree of difficulty off the lounge.  My physio loves this too, as my wrecked shoulders  keep him in business The language of whine is another personal favourite. Please, whine at me again, its so much more likely to influence me to give you that thing you are whining like a sooky brat  asking for.

Dragging feet before school – oh how I love the battle that ensues every morning as you sit and take 4 hours to eat 2 weet bix, and put on one uniform.  And clearly I cannot take you to school in your pyjamas as I threaten , because a) your Daddy is on staff and b) there is nothing like the smirk of satisfaction on people’s faces when they realise two teachers cannot control their child.

Bad behaviour in public- nothing excites me more than when you seem to save up every single  bad behaviour you have ever learnt and let them out when in public or visiting family.  I get that you are totally just letting me practice my death stares, and menacing whispers of “you wait til we get in that car”, gosh you are good like that! And the added bonus is that the general public gets to think I am the  crappest mother ever given breath and skin to. Yay for me! At least I am a winner at something!

Dirtying my clothes- Don’t let it bother you that it took me an hour this morning to choose the exact right outfit that didn’t make me look 3 metres wide. That we have to be out the door in the next 3 minutes – don’t let it deter you. The fact that I lay in bed last night planning which outfit I would wear, cross referenced it with which clothing was a) clean b)ironed and c) not too old/young/downright hideous. The fact I was wearing my only pants that don’t currently give me a muffin top? Well don’t let that worry your pretty little head as you wipe your weet-bixy, snotty face all over me. Hang on, I think you missed a square inch just below the back of my left knee- oh no, that’s ok, you got it! You are only trying to teach me about vanity I am sure.

No privacy-  Privacy? Who needs it! Totally overrated. I guess the whole giving birth thing should have been a clue that my privacy would never exist again. When you throw open the public toilet door midstream-  that really helps me to work on my pelvic floor muscles as I try to stop the flow, pull up my pants, scream and cover any offending bits of my lady garden that you have now just displayed to the entire general public. And those poor bewildered ladies who were made privy to the sight of me half naked, more muffin tops than Muffin Break , squeezing into a pair of skinny jeans in the dressing room as you threw open the curtains. Lets just say they learnt a lesson in grateful that day – ie grateful they don’t look like me naked!

Biting – I have had nipples from way back when I was developing in the womb. Some would say I have become quite attached to them.  But by all means, I realise your teeth are just emerging and need practice and chomping down on my delicate lady petals is probably soothing for your gums.  My personal favourite is at the end of a feed, you look at me hungrily and lunge at my breast again, leaving me thinking you were not in fact finished, only for your sole purpose being to take one final chomp. Never mind the blood dripping from my severed nipple, I am sure a new one will grow back in its place!

 

Disclaimer: The author loves her children very, very much and totally understands the value of offspring. This is a very tongue in cheek look at some of the less fun aspects of the totally rewarding job of parenthood.

Bittersweet

It has finally arrived- a day I have dreamed of and dreaded for almost 5 years. Its the day my first born child has started school. It feels like only days ago that I sat by that humidicrib, day in and day out watching the little life fighting inside. Praying that he would survive and thinking of all the milestones we would celebrate. I imagined this day as I sat there in the NICU, but it felt like an eternity away. I still cannot quite believe it is here. People always commented when he was a baby that I should enjoy every minute because they grow up so fast. Never has that seemed so true as it has today.
 it was with so much pride that I watched my little man all dressed in his uniform, huge backpack strapped on his back walk confidently into his new classroom. I knew he would be fine. He has been so excited for such a long time now, but a small part of me still wondered if reality wouldnt suddenly set in and with it the enormity of what he was facing. But thankfully even as I kissed his little face goodbye he was happy and ready to start his big new adventure. Silly me! He has faced all other milestones with confidence and exuberance- why should today be any different. As his parents, we often wonder how two of the worlds most shy and reserved people managed to create this outgoing, confident little boy. But we thank God every day that we did.
As I lay in bed last night, unable to sleep, my mind was filled with so many questions. Have I done enough to prepare him for this, will he look back on the time we had together with fond memories. Did I play with him enough, stimulate him enough, listen to him enough? Probably not all the time. Did I let him watch too much tv, eat too much junk food. The answer to all of these questions is probably yes at different times. But I look at the little boy who we have raised so far and I know that while some things could have been done better or differently, we must have done a lot of things right. He is loving and kind, crazy and energetic. Clever and funny. Impulsive and  reckless. He can make your heart swell to bursting and the next minute want to tear your hair out in frustration. He can talk under wet cement. He is precious and a beautiful soul. I pray his teacher will find all these qualities in him and nurture them. Shape him without losing what makes him, him. I hope she will love him and be someone he trusts and feels safe with. Be firm with him when he needs it. Stretch his mind and imagination, keep him busy and be someone he will always remember as an amazing teacher.
Its been a big day for us both. I mourn the passing of an era in his life that is gone now for good. The time where I got to have him home with me. I have loved every minute of it, even the hard days, for they make me appreciate the good days even more. Now I have to share him with the world. and look forward to the excitng new things to come.  And now as its almost time to pick him up, I cant wait to see him and cuddle him and hear all about his day. I have survived his first day....