ummm, talk much?

Ummmmm, yes. Poor T can't get a word in. This is me doing 'our' tenth wedding anniversary speech. I have no idea what I was saying that was so obviously hilarious. Clearly, I thought I was the funniest woman alive though.

People always tell me I'm a very 'animated' talker. Indeed. Indeed. Oh dear.

Me. A mum.

I'm a mum. I'm their mum. They depend on me. I'm a teacher, a guide, a mentor, a feeder, a protector, a keeper, a soul-carrier, a heart-wearer, a carer, a disciplinarian, a story-teller, a playmate, a book-reader, an example, a role-model, a citizen-grower, an influencer. They need me, and I need them.

Being a mum is the most brilliant thing in my life. It's also the hardest. Every.single.moment.and.decision. is laced with doubt, guilt, conscience, question, and of course love. There's always love. Big giant suffocating love that brings tears to my eyes just thinking of it.

But I want to be a better mum. A more patient one, and a less distracted one. Definitely a less shouty one. I wish for the time, the freedom and the... privilege?... to take it slowly, to move at their pace, take their lead, look at the world through their eyes, rather than constantly needing to hurry up, tidy up, shoosh for a minute, stop fighting, get-a-move-on, and whatever-else-on.

I feel like I'm torn between the real-life urgency to earn money, keep my foot on the career ladder, and contribute my share and the real-life yearning to just be their mum - now - while they're so little and they need me so much. They are utterly dependent. The physical dependency is tiring, but not as exhausting as the sheer emotional pressure of having someone's life in your hands. And I don't want to break it. It's so precious.

I know we have to work. We have to earn money. We have to pay for this house, this life, this stuff. I'm not ready yet to think about whether we need it all (I'm quite sure we don't), because that might mean something I have only ever romantically entertained on mini-break weekends in front of roaring fires, balloon of red wine in hand (pre-kids, of course, when living in the country sounded divine if you could pop up to the city whenever you needed to). But I also firmly believe that if one of us can be at home with our boys, then we should. We ought. It's our job. It is better for one parent to be here often, than neither. I'm constantly amazed at how we do things in our own home to ourselves and to our children (our children!), that we would never dare to do to our employers. Isn't that back-to-front?

I'm not one of those mums who knows I'm a better mum if I'm working. I'm not. I'm a better mum when I'm immersed with them. That's not to say I don't enjoy working, because I do - if the work is interesting and challenging. I like to be busy, and I like to achieve results. I like remembering that I can chat about things other than child development and eating habits. But I don't think I do both well enough when they're competing for my time. I don't think I'm a good mama when I'm trying to juggle work, which never falls on the days it's supposed to, meaning I'm constantly trying to distract them so I can work. I don't think do a good enough job for my clients because I'm only ever partly on the job.

I frequently feel annoyed about this. Angry that I can't do it all. Frustrated because I'm so tired of the juggling and I can't explain it properly to anyone else - it just sounds so trivial when I try. Annoyed because our weekends are exhausting and tag-teaming and T and I don't have much quality time together. Cross because the house is always chaotic and we're always running out of milk! Exhausted because I haven't had a decent night's sleep in three years and wondering if I ever will again. Peed off because I don't get out much, that I don't see my friends enough, that I've become dull and boring and WHAT ABOUT ME? WHERE DID I GO IN ALL THIS?

But when it comes down to it, right now, I am a mum. I am their mum. It's my job. It's my heart. And for now, that's what I need to be.

Universe, are you listening?

#31 Go to the dentist regularly

It's better to go regularly - preventatively - than to put it off and deal with the consequences (and I'm speaking from experience here) xx

#30 Be generous

With your time. Or with your money. And always with your spirit.

Lately

There has been a shift in our house. Our full time nanny has finished, and so has my roundabout of working full time across a number of jobs.  It was too much. Too unbalanced. I'm working less now and it feels good. I feel settled. Grounded. The boys are at 'junior kindy' two days per week and they're thriving. Our time together is so precious and we've been busy!

Baking

Colour sorting

 And sorting by numbers too (just some contact taped sticky-side-out onto a wall)

Making rainbows with pipecleaners and colanders

Pegging (oh, I can't wait for them to become adept at this. I am not exactly the world's biggest laundry lover)

Making playdough and working at it ever so diligently

 Hours of 'Thomas and his friends' - these boys must surely be the world's biggest fans

very enthusiastic trampolining (Hamey even takes his 'meh' jumping - bless him)

And in between all of that, there's been a bit of 'me' and 'us' time too.

Getting some exercise in - walking / jogging, twinadoes in tow in the mother of all prams

and date night sparkles!

I am blessed :)

They got so big!

My babies are so big! How? When? 

But it's such an interesting time.

In so many ways they seem so much older than 2.5 - especially Rocky - like when he tells me he wants: "chorizo cous cous - the big cous cous mama, not the little cous cous" for dinner. Or when he tells me he loves me very very much and he's very proud of me! Or when they tell me they're grown ups and don't need baby things anymore and only want to eat grown-up food off grown-up plates. They are so confident with people and happily announce their full names to anyone who asks. They march off (or race off - especially when I'm in David Jones - specialising in the 'run in opposite directions' manouvre) with confidence and eagerness into the world.

In other ways they are still little babies (and always will be, I expect) - like needing BIIIIG cuddles before bed, grabbing my hand when they're unsure of something, needing their boo-boos kissed better, edging closer and closer until they're on top of me when they get tired, and taking their trains to bed (which T then has to gently remove hours later from their gorgeous gentle grip).

They're amazing these little humans. I never knew to expect such amazing-ness (is that a word?). They blow my mind. I am privileged. And grateful. And tired. But that's ok :)

The following photos are of the boys with their "cousin Blakey" - possibly the only person they will hold hands with for more than 20 seconds. They adore him.  x