Things to not forget.
The urgent pleas at night-time for one more kiss and ‘huggle’. So often I am rushing on to the next task, to sort the house, to make the dinner, to wrap the presents. No sooner than I blink I am sure night-time huggles will erode from our relationship and I will regret the even one time I pull away from the undeniably loveliness of sharing a hug with my beautiful babies.
I can’t forget the way twin girl starts every sentence with the word “so” so she can be in charge, she loves to be the boss but yet she is incredibly kind as well. The way she tells her nanny off for calling her “lovely” and “petal” because she wants to be forever known as “monkey molly”.
Could I really not keep a clear image of early morning peek a boo sessions with beautiful baby, no one can raise a giggle from that child like her big brother and sister.
Will I always remember coaxing twin girl to give up her first love, her thumb-sucking habit, all for a pair of clipping shoes. And twin boy we will never forget what you stopped doing in exchange for your brand new guitar. The world is a better place now that little habit has been put to bed.
Will I remember the calmness of twin boy when he is poorly. I often forget how fragile the big ones still are. I need to remember the soft sad image of him laid on the sofa, wrapped in a duvet shivering whilst the rest of us baked in the heated house. With twin girl at school he took control of the remote control and regressed to Cbeebies. She would never let him watch it normally but surprisingly we both enjoyed the familiar face of Mr Tumble.
And beautiful baby my lovely little shortbread, can I forget weaning you? you have started on real food kiwi and broccoli seem to be firm favourites. It is a strange feeling that I am no longer your only source of nourishment and one I don’t altogether like as yet. I don’t think I will ever forget how much joy you bring me daily. You bring out the softer side in me, I can’t let you cry, I live to see you smile.
She is trying to sit up and although each attempt is met with rapture from the family a little voice inside me whispers for her to slow down, be my newborn baby for a while longer.
I don’t need to write how much I love my children but sometimes I need to remember to tell them every day.
Now these memories are written, I cannot forget.