6.06: the soft cries of mama mama from BB’s cot transcend into loud wails of hunger. I struggle from the soft comfort of my duvet and stumble blindly into her room to see her stood inside the cot arms outstretched lips already pouting for a kiss. Whispering morning into her fair, warm hair we silently tip toe back to my room taking care not to wake any more small or hairy people in the home.
6.10: BB lays quietly in my arms drinking her milk, my eyes start to close as I cuddle her close marvelling in her loveliness.
6.10: The bedroom door bursts open, chipping an extra inch out of the wall with the handle. Elephant footsteps boom across the floorboards, a small head leans over mine a massive voice enquires “Is it waking up time yet?”. BB sits up catching my chin with her small but incredibly hard skull and tears water in my eyes. I turn to Twin Boy, “not yet.” I hush “twenty more minutes.” He stomps his giant feet in frustration and the house trembles a little with fear, “no mummy, five more minutes” he booms. Hastily I agree and he disappears with a clash and a bang into his boudoir.
6.12: BB snuggles in once more, I chuckle knowingly into her hair, “it’s ok lovely” I croon “he can’t tell the time yet, we are safe for a while.”
6.17: (on the dot) the door bounces open threatening to jump off its hinges. A small person leaps onto the bed crushing my calf in the process sending shooting pains up and down my leg. Gleefully he practices trampolining by he who helped create them’s head. “It’s not been five minutes,” I splutter, lying to my child with a well practised ease.
“It has” he declares “I counted to sixty five times, just like you taught me.”
That’s it! I am stopping educating my kids, no good will come of it I tell you…