
3 mins early for school drop off this morning, which is a first for a long time. Was in a skinny T-shirt and short denim skirt but everyone looked at me as if I was stark, raving mad. The heat muggy wave came as predicted although was not quite present at that stage. That's all fine and dandy for them in their long coats and trousers but I live the furthest out from the school and so have the longest, hardest walk, hence sweaty arrivals! Have made the mistake of layering up for a school run before, thinking it's cold out. Believe me, jogging like an overdressed beast pushing a buggy that looks uncannily similar to a paddling boat can be quite a sight. Rafy just isn't any faster on the scooter and too uncoordinated in the morning rush!
But on the other hand, time goes fast – so fast it shell-shocks me. I look at the boys, one at a time. I'm in awe that I'm a mother, that these are my children. It's surreal (and of course wonderful) how they grow and develop. Now the first born is off to school and I'm totally stunned. You hear it all the time but it truly felt like only yesterday that I was weaning him onto solids and doing the playgroup rounds that I'm doing for his wee bro now. He isn't in my day for over 6 hours straight now, five days a week, and I have no idea what goes on in that time – he's too forgetful to recall to me and gives the standard "I did nothing", or more precisely, "nothinK". He picks up horrendous slang that I also have no control over!
I've just put his wee bro down for bedtime. He wasn't that tired tonight having had a late nap in the day, so he took ages to settle. But I fully embraced that as he snuggled up and coo-ed away, wriggling around the bed to get comfy. Sometimes I get kisses – little pecks on my lips – out of nowhere. He'll look into my eyes and break into the most loving and adoring smile, and it's impossible not to forgive him for (most of) his antics; those are the moments of parenting that nothing else can compare to.
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