Sunshine to warm the soul …

I really beat myself up that I do not spend enough time with my kids.  But when I am spending time with my kids, I wonder if they will notice if I slip away, pour myself some (more) wine and  chat on Facebook or read some blogs.

So, yes I am perfect in my imperfection and fail miserably at most things motherhood in nature.  But there we go, such is the way in my neck of the woods.

Isabelle is my baby and maybe because she is the baby I love her with a gushy gurglie kind of love.  I love her pudginess as she snuggles close to me.  I melt when she gives me a toothy grin.  My heart wants to burst when she pushes her face into my neck, or when she gives me a zerbit for a kiss.

I absolutely adore this little girl more than I can explain in any rational you-appear-to-not-actually-have-had-anything-to-drink-this-time-but-are-babbling-uncontrollably manner.

I am not trying to take away from how much I love my other children, but my love for them is different.

Connor is eight and pretty self-sufficient.  He is at the dirty nails, scraped knees, snot coming out of his nose stage, where he regales me with stories of what bait to use to catch which fish.

Georgia is a law unto herself. She needs me for little more than wiping her bum, and maybe the odd snuggle at night – however I seem to be very useful when she is faced with creepy crawly or flying insects – moths specifically.

But Isabelle is my little fufie-nuffie (pronounced foo-fi noo-fi!

When I get home from work, I say hello to everyone and then try and go for a little walk with Isabelle up our road.

It is a walk of about 100 metres, and she toddles as a 16 month old does.  She grips my hand firmly with her pudgy sticky fingers and I love every moment of it.  She points at things and goes “caaaaa….” and I sort of just stand around with her aglow in the wonder of this blonde-haired-blue-eyed piece of heaven walking next to me.

It is our little moment of quiet, in amongst all the time that she has to share my attention with everyone and everything else.

On Saturday morning, I bathed Isabellle.  When I took her out of the bath, I put her on the mat on her bedroom floor.  The sun was shining through the window and made a nice warm patch.  I sat on the floor with her and she was on my lap.

I was rubbing cream on her skin – and for no other reason than that it made me feel good to sit with her and massage her – she actually did not need the cream.

She was quiet and sort of leaned in to me.  I lay her on her back and massages her legs and her chubby toes.  She just lay there and serenely looked out the window.  When I massaged each toe, she made a light giggling sound, that was very sweet, but she did not try to pull her feet away.

I massaged her arms and her fingers and she just lay on her back and smiled at me.

It really was such a wonderful little moment in time that I got to spend with her and just have some peace and quiet, with some one-on- one time with her.  She came and sat on my lap, and I rubbed her shoulders and she put her head against my chest – not in a clingy way, just rested against me, it was so peaceful and blissful and reminded me why I like kids so much.

Kennith made her a bottle. I dressed Isabelle for her late morning sleep.  It was all quite wonderful.

I was putting her into cot, and spoke in a soft voice, saying pretty things to her and telling her how precious she was and how lucky I am that I get to be a part of her life.

Georgia then came bounding into the room singing…

I asked Georgia to please be quiet as I was putting Isabellle in bed, and she needed to leave the room – still using my sweet I-am-earth-mother voice.  Georgia then upped the tempo and not only sang, but danced around the room.

Still retaining the illusion of peace-mother, I asked her in a slightly less sweet voice for Georgia to please leave, as Isabelle was going to sleep (and she was spoiling the entire moment here!).

Georgia it seems, does not respond to sweet and light voice – and moved to the second chorus of the song in a more up-beat tempo, to which I responded “Get out of the room, NOW!”

Georgia then backed out and stood in the doorway and continued to sing her song loudly … to which I in turn responded: “GET OUT OF THIS DAMN ROOM NOW!! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, WHY CAN YOU NOT HEAR ME THE FIRST TIME, NOW MOVE BEFORE I GIVE YOU A HIDING ON YOUR BUM! GO!”

Georgia left the room.

I glanced down at Isabelle to see if she was still in her mom-and-I-are-at-peace-and-this-is-a-magic-moment place.  It seemed she was blissfully warm and snuggly in her pink blanket, clinging to her play-dog and sucking on her bottle with blue eyes firmly fixed on mommy!

‘good sleep my angel!”

<now let me go and find your sister so I can make good on my promise of giving her a damn hiding….>

Advertisements
Leave a comment

6 Comments

  1. its like you and i live in parrallel universes sometimes. everytime i read your blog it’s like you are echoeing an exact occurance in one of my days just with different names… wierd!

    Reply
    • reluctantmom

       /  November 3, 2010

      Sadly I think, that as unique as I think I am – I am living the same life many people are. … makes me a bit sad to know I am not that special, then makes me feel a bit better that I am not as crazy as I thought!

      Reply
  2. julz

     /  November 2, 2010

    Is there any way to keep them this small and cuddly and yummy? Can we trade them in when they reach the age of 3 for antother cuddly baby?

    Reply
    • reluctantmom

       /  November 3, 2010

      I totally love the cuddly squishy cellulite on their bums stage …. love it!

      Reply
  3. Mandy

     /  November 2, 2010

    F*ck this sounds like my 6 year old when I am with my 2 year old (who is getting bigger by the day but still my baby). “MOMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!! What is 6 +4?” ??!!! ggggrrrrrr

    Reply
  4. Tania

     /  November 2, 2010

    ha ha ha ha ha 🙂 …how funny

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: