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.”

Of course.

 

Master 4.
“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.”
“Thanks mumma.”

 

1 week later, I hear crying and sounds of 4 year old male frustration coming from Master 4 in his room.

“What’s up?”
” I want my bed rail back mumma.”

“Why’s that?”
” 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.”

Of course.

 

 

 

 

 

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