I’m brushing my youngest’s hair and we’re chittering away.
‘You’re my beautiful Baby girl’ I say as I kiss the top of her inexplicably fuzzy head when I’m done.
‘I am not a Baby Mammy. I am FOUR.’ she replies.
‘Yes I know, you’re a big girl…but you’re still my wee baby.’
‘You don’t got no babies no more Mammy…’
Boom.
Slap.
Smash…
There we go.
She’s right of course.
There are no more babies in my house. All evidence of babies has been reduced to smudge marks on walls and a few baby toys which managed to evade my preSanta clear out.
My girls are now “big girls” and I no longer have babies apparently.
At 4 and almost 8, they’re my Little Women.
And while this makes me sad, it makes me happy at the same time.
I love the age that they’re at now. Still so dependent on us, but fully capable of doing things like getting a drink for themselves and getting dressed themselves… (Well. Sometimes!)
I love that when they waken on a Sunday morning, they can play together in the bedroom for an hour before coming near us.
I love that the pram is gone… (literally, it’s in Dublin!) and that there is no longer a need to bring half the house with me when I leave it.
I love the craic we can now have with them; enjoying their company and genuinely having fun as they unleash their personalities onto the world.
And while every age poses its own challenges…(stubborn 4 and emotional almost 8 anyone?), I have to say that this stage of our little family, is enjoyable.
Do I miss them as Babies?
Of course I do.
I look back at photographs and videos of them as newborns and wobblers and toddlers and my heart stops and starts at the same time. It swells with nostalgia and love and pride.
But it also sighs with relief, because while I loved much of the Early Years, there was much about it that I wouldn’t go back to for all the tea in China.
I would have no urge to go back to the blur of the first few months.
(I’m not in the slightest bit broody either before anyone gets excited and throws THAT particular tuppence in. 😂)
I don’t miss very much about the baby phase, except for THEM. My baby children.
Their faces, their hugs, their smells… of course I miss the little voices and first words and mispronounced phrases and funny waddles and baby giggles.
But I enjoyed them while they lasted and now, I’m enjoying the hilarious questions, and little notes on our pillow at night and listening to them play together and random conversations with two little ladies who are trying to make sense of the world.
The pudgy, sticky little arms that used to go around my neck, are now simply longer. (Still sticky sometimes!)
The beautiful blue eyes which used to stare up at me with utter trust and love, stare now with suspicion and curiosity and sometimes with annoyance, but still with trust and love.
Always with trust and love.
Rather than pushing them in front of me, I now walk beside them. Sometimes behind them as they run ahead, exploring the world.
And I am loving every second of it and savouring every second, because this too shall pass and soon, there’ll be a new phase if my Little Women with new challenges and new fun.
They can run ahead all they like.
They can get as tall and big and independent as they like.
I’ll always be right behind them, or beside them, or wherever they need me to be.
So while my Princess was correct, she was also wrong.
Because even when they’re all grown up, they’ll still be my babies.
M x


Last night, Mammy was smart.Mammy went to bed early in order to be bright and fecking breezy for the first day of a shiny and glorious new term.Mammy had the uniforms and all that jazzle laid out and ready for her precious minions before her early night…Mammy smugly cozied under the quilt, blew kisses at the husband and muttered sweet Goodnights…Then Mammy lay awake for pretty much the whole huckin night, unable to drift off and with a brain that was doing 120 on a playground roundabout with 269 tabs open and a techno rave playing in the background.I swear I saw EVERY Fricken hour from 10pm until 4am…Between the wind battering the windows and my brain battering my insides, there was NO sleep.My veins were fizzing with adrenalin, probably a mix of anxiety about going back to work and a deep FEAR of sleeping in.And then, just as Mammy finally drifted into a stupor, the alarm went off at 5.30am…Mammy decided to cut her losses and got up a Stupid O’clock to wave Husband Dearest off to work.Then Mammy had coffee, did some gym admin, made a pot of chilli, made the lunches, did a load of washing, started the dishwasher, wrote a blog post and had a shower, before wakening her precious minions from THEIR quite peaceful slumbers.Princess was confused about why she was getting up in da night time after 2 weeks of daylight starts. She wanted to know “Are we going to Spain?” as apparently that is what happens when she goes in the car in the dark.
