Monday, 11 March 2013

having children in our home

I've noticed something odd recently. 

It started off as few little things that I couldn't quite put my finger on. And now that a few of these things have happened I'm realising why and what it is. 

Like we have had a lot more time for baking. 

We go to the park and I sometimes sit back and watch my kids play. Often I'm the ogre or swing-pusher or post-slide-grabber. But if it's been one of those days I can take my children to the park and just watch them run.

Sometimes I'm sat downstairs and realise that I haven't heard any noise or been asked for anything in a while...and when I make that nerve-wracking trip upstairs no one is pouring talc over my bed or painting their brother's face with nail varnish.

They're just enjoying their own imagined world.  

The two most telling "things" that were niggling at me was that Andy and I had been on at least one date out a month for about a year...  

and that I was able to make the time to do my hair and make-up more often than not.

It was yesterday, mother's day, that I realised what it was that I just couldn't work out before now. 

We no longer have a baby in the house. 

We have two independent little people in our home. 

And although they take up my thoughts and time in an all encompassing way; it is not nearly the same as having a baby in our home. 

I don't pretend that our days are easy or perfect now. But they are days which have a different set of challenges than when my children were smaller.

I sometimes find myself lost at church because I have nothing and no one in my arms. 

It feels strange. 

I was miffed today when my manicure chipped after three days' wear - when for four years I'd hardly dared to paint my toes. 

And although I love having time on an evening to craft, blog or spend time interacting with my husband - I miss having that baby to hold. 

Andy said to me the other day that not every child was my responsibility. I'd seen a child asking for her mum in a shop. Knowing pretty certainly that her mum was stood right behind her (she was). But I had to stop and make sure that she was with her mum. 

I feel drawn to mums with crying babies. I feel the need to take them and give the mum a chance to have a break. To let her have some of that uninterrupted quiet time that I'm enjoying. 

Although I have gone through periods of being frustrated with this fragile body I have that seems to struggle so much with our beautiful, big babies. That won't ever allow us to have a house full of children; I remember how blessed I am to have a body which has brought our two children into our arms so far. 

Children who are so full of their own personality and desires. 

Children who can be so fiercely independent, yet so absolutely reliant upon me that I can remember their first few days and their new born smell all over again. 

I am incredibly blessed. I am enjoying the time I have now to bring up my precious children. 

I know that feeling of being handed my baby, and for that first time holding them outside your body. Being able to look into their soul and they into yours and realising that you already know them.

When I remember all I have been given, and all that I have, I know that I am blessed beyond measure. 

And I hope I never forget that.

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