I love being a mum, and I am not just saying that.
I love being a mum. Specifically I love being a mum to my kids. I am so glad that I got given my kids, because I think that t they suit me. They compliment me, extend me in all the right areas and their sense of humour is JUST WHAT I NEED.
My kids just crack me up, or snap me back to reality. They seem to be a good counterweight, providing balance to the swinging pendulum.
Like Master 7. All through a very cold (colder than we were used to ever) Canberra winter, I could barely get him to wear shoes let alone slippers or ugg boots.
The last 3 nights have been very warm even at bed time, so he has been sleeping in a t-shirt, shorts/ undies and …………………….ugg boots.
So his feet don’t get cold.
“Why will your feet get cold, Master 7?”
“Because it is too hot to sleep with a blanket on mum.”
“Mum I am a big boy now.” This is a serial conversation we have, as he is on his way to Kindergarten next year and we are encouraging growth, development and independence and find-your-own-shoes kind of behaviour.
“Yes, you are getting big darling.”
“So, I don’t need the bed rail anymore.”
“Ok, we will take it away now if you don’t want it.”
1 week later, I hear crying and sounds of 4 year old male frustration coming from Master 4 in his room.
” I want my bed rail back mumma.”
” I am still a big boy, but when I sleep, I need Tedda (a pirate teddy bear) and Buckethead (a stuffed lion) and Honky (a pig with a heat pack in it) and without the rail they fall off when I am sleeping and they don’t like it.”