Warm fuzzy Bliss

So I figured as I’m currently in the ‘warm fuzzy’ point of the day, where I’ve just put my eldest to bed and she’s voluntarily kissed my forehead telling me she loves me more than the world, that right now is a better place to start than any.

(Although it could just be the glass of bubbles I’ve just poured…)

Motherhood is tough, it really isn’t for sissies and you need to be thick skinned – mostly, I’ve learnt, for the moments I’ve been faced with recently like when my 2.5 year old has told me she doesn’t want to be my best friend ever again or that once again, Daddy is flavour of the moment for both of them!

In all fairness, Daddy is always flavour of the moment. They’re his kryptonite and one look from them seems to ignite an irrational emotion in him that has been completely absent till now – Tears from just looking at our sons tiny hand or after he’s put our daughter to bed and she’s been heart wrenchingly cute. So obviously his threats are empty as he gives in to their every whim. It really is true what they say, girls wrap their Daddys around their little fingers. Although in this case, even our sons fingers are causing him to surrender into a ball of warm, fuzzy Bliss.

Meanwhile I’m bad cop for even implying that our daughter can’t go to bed wearing a dress she’s been wearing all day. Daddy put her to bed so naturally when I went to check on her she had it on under her pyjamas.. and that right their is his answer for ‘negotiation’ something essential in all parenting journeys.

And so I think I’ll end it there, before the warm fuzz wears off thinking of what impractical choice of nightwear she’ll be in tomorrow night. 😅

cheers 🥂,

H x

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