I am Some More Wedding Vows Mum

My Partner in Poo.

 

“I take thee for richer, for poorer”, we both said.

“For better for worse, in sickness, in health”

and while we meant all of these things on the day,

In hindsight, there’s probably more we should say.

“I’ll love you alone while it’s just me and you,

Deeply and truly, as lovers should do,

But things might change slightly when two becomes three

And yet I’ll still love you, though it might be slightly

different and strained as we sail through the seas

of babies and nappies and purees and puke,

of Peekaboo, naptimes and lego and books.

And then we realise three shall be four

I’ll still try to love you as much as before.

For while there’s less dinners and cinema dates,

Less romance and movies and less use of good plates,

Every so often, I’ll catch a brief glimpse

Of the Man that I married, and I’ll smile as you wink

I’ll love you in darkness, in fevers, in tears

And teething and pain and in each passing year.

I’ll love you in cuddles and memories and fun

In sneaky embraces and slaps on the bum

As we meet in the kitchen in the middle of night.

And when I watch you swinging our girls way up high.

When you’re loving our girls, I love you the most,

When you’re covered in poo, or you’ve not cut their toast

the right way, or you’ve left all the dishes and mess

to build them a fort or put Hulk in a dress.

When I see you exhausted, yet hugging them tight,

When you get up to cuddle or sooth in the night,

When you smile at them both, I can’t help but stare

At the husband that I never thought I could share,

but happily do with our two little girls,

Who weren’t in our mind as we took all those vows,

I know that you love me when I hear them call Daddy

And I’ll share all that love with our Princesses gladly.

So while we still love and while we’re still “us”,

With kids there isn’t so much time for the fuss

or the dates or attention or time that we had,

But that doesn’t mean our love’s old or is bad.

It’s different and shared, but the spark is still there,

It’s just covered in pink stuff and snot in our hair,

And sometimes we’re knackered or covered in poo

But I still love you as much as when I said “I do”.

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I am She’s Six Mum

Tonight I am putting my 5 year old to bed. Tomorrow she shall be six.

How did that happen?

 

Mammy’s Wee Jewel.

Sparkling and shiny but tougher than stone

You entered our world with a mind of your own.

We wondered what all of the fuss was about,

But quickly learned that we could not live without

Your laughter and giggles, your glistening blue eyes,

Your mischief and wonder and oh what a smile.

So kind and so clever, you feel everything

A sensitive soul who would do anything

To make us all happy, the perfect big sis,

You showed us what love was from the very first kiss

That I planted so gently on the bridge of your nose,

And tickled your belly and massaged your toes.

And while we have rows and sometimes things go wrong

A part of me loves that you’re so darn headstrong

Because while you are sensitive and nervous and scared,

You’re also determined and stubborn and fair.

You’re clever and kind and your singing is sweet

And a beautiful dancer, so light on your feet.

You are my wee Darling, My own Mini-Me

And I’m proud of the wonderful girl that I see

Growing up right in front of me so very fast

And time may keep passing, but my love for you lasts

Beyond every worry and tantrum and rule

Because you’ll always be Mammy’s most precious wee jewel.

 

Happy Birthday Darling.

Mammy xxxx

I am Some Time, Sometimes Mum

Mammy wrote this poem on Wednesday after a few days of emotional news, both good and bad. I found myself looking at my girls, wondering how on earth I could EVER protect them from the world, from life. Wondering how they are growing up so quickly. Wondering how I can make sure they have everything they need to battle the bitch that life can sometimes be.

That morning, a few of my friends and I had been joking about our little rascals not sleeping, or misbehaving etc. It was typical Mammy chat; nothing major, but I was stopped in my tracks when one of the, let’s say, more experienced Mammies in the room laughed to herself and announced, “Enjoy it all. Before you know it, you’ll be wishing you could have these sleepless nights again. It all goes so fast.”

And that was that. How right she was eh? These pearls of wisdom from a wonderful Mum whose sleepless nights are still caused by her children, even though they’re far away from home, coupled with my general “What is life?” mood, started singing this poem in my head. I had to get it written down.

And I’m glad that I did. Writing my own “advice” to myself has helped a bit this week. Sometimes words can help. Even when it seems that there are none. Life is a bitch; of that we are certain, but I suppose if we can put our energy into enjoying it while she’s behaving, we’re winning already aren’t we?

I am Some Time, Sometimes Mum

(Dedicated to Michael)

We’ve “no time” for dancing, We’ve “no time” to sing.

We can’t play that game or go play on the swing.

There’s washing and cooking and things to be done

And sometimes the last thing we think of is fun.

And this is all normal and life does get busy,

But if it’s so hectic it’s making you dizzy,

It’s time to consider the things that mean more,

The small things we all take for granted, I’m sure.

Like breathing and laughing and reading and such,

Like the fact that our lives are each made up of much,

Much more than our jobs or our grades or successes.

They’re made up of giggles and family and messes,

Of routines and drop offs, of friends and of breaks,

Of worries and stresses, of plans and heartaches.

If we knew every morning, what would lay ahead,

There are mornings we’d probably stay in our beds.

But know we do not. Of nothing we’re sure,

Except that we’re here and have one morning more.

So take all the compliments, laugh all the time,

Always give hugs and sometimes drink wine.

Build all the jigsaws, take all the smiles.

Walk in the countryside, drive one more mile,

Say if you’re sorry, cry if you’re sad,

Don’t waste time fighting. Fighting is bad..

Look at the sky and take time to see

the colours and patterns, reflect on the sea.

Don’t waste time worrying about what MAY be

Think of your present. Enjoy memories.

Follow your dreams, Make all the plans,

Never let anyone tell you you can’t.

And while we have problems and things might go badly,

Remember that others would swap with us gladly.

So if you love someone, please make sure that you say;

Tell them and give them memories to replay,

Because we just never know when that last hug or kiss

is being given. So make sure it’s one you don’t miss.

Breathe it all in and live life as you must,

Be kind and polite and remember to trust.

Travel and wonder and read all the books

See all the beauty we’d see if we looked.

When life is good, live it, and take every chance

And never look back wishing that you had danced.

Leave “no song unsung and no wine untasted”

For time spent being happy is never time wasted.

So play all the games and run to the swing

And always make time to dance and to sing.

greatmornings

Maria (Jan 2018)

Delighted to have this post featured on #Blogcrush

Lucy At Home

And published on my Thoroughly Modern Mammy column on the very fablis Donegal Woman

Shared on

 

Mudpie Fridays

 

I am “So Is Daddy babysitting?” Mum


​For My Him 😚
Is Dad babysitting? Well actually, no.

They’re his minions too or Didn’t you know?

He’s just as responsible for our little girls

As I am. Imagine! It’s a crazy old world.

 

Imagine if Dads got the credit they’re due

For all of that “parenting” stuff that they do?

For the fact that he might have had something to do

With me having babies. Afterall, it takes two!
For the feeding and changing and burping and snot.

For the fact that he also can stand by the cot,

For the fear and the tears that he so often hides,

As he holds it together, while screaming inside,

 

For helping to raise them, for holding them tight,

For also being kept wide awake in the night,

For changing the bed when it’s covered in puke,

For the times when he’s tired and still reads her books,

 

For the washing he does, (even though it’s not often!)

And the times when he hoovers, or sticks on the oven,

For the hugs and the kisses, the cuddles and smiles

For the hours he works, missing them all the while.

 

For the phone calls and texts when he’s trying to work

For the airplanes he makes with a spoon or a fork,

For the times when he kisses my forehead and squeezes

My hand, for the friendship and even the teases,

 

For reminding me every so often that he

Loves me as their Mammy, but also, as ME.

For his laughter and strength, his time and his love,

Because while I was sent these wee gifts from above,

 

They aren’t just mine, and No he’s not babysitting,

(Ok I do most stuff), but who am I kidding?

He’s just as responsible for our little girls

As I am.  He’s not just their Dad.  He’s our world.