My four year old can read, like, fluently. I thought this was the most incredibly wonderful thing, until about five minutes ago.

My laptop was open and I was catching up on some blog stuff while cooking tea. I had my back turned and suddenly I heard George saying ‘I don’t enjoy playing with my children’ (see previous blog post title) ‘Who is writing that mummy?’ He enquired, as his little face looked so sad and concerned. ‘That’s not very kind!’

‘Don’t worry darling,’ I said, ‘it’s just something that mummy is reading.’

‘Phew. I thought you wrote it mummy, but you love playing with us don’t you!’

Oh. My. Gosh. My heart just broke. I feel insanely awful now and am desperate to make it clear to my children when they read this one day that I adore them so, so much.

Whenever George and Sophie have fallen asleep at night, I don’t tend to go into their bedroom because I feel like it would just disturb them. If they’re quiet then they’re settled and I’ll see them when they wake up in the morning. The past few nights, though, I’ve been sneaking in before I go to bed. It’s like I can’t help myself, I just need to see them and kiss them one more time before I go to sleep. They are so warm and peaceful, I feel like I want to just climb in with them and hold onto them all night.

I remember when I was pregnant with Sophie, I’d often feel emotional about George because I knew that it would never be just the two of us again. We had a rocking chair next to his bed and I would actually go and get him out of bed and cuddle him in the rocking chair for ages. I would tell him how much I loved him and how that wouldn’t change when his sister came along. I’d feel myself tearing up in these moments because they were just so perfect and intimate.

When I had George, I was struck so intensely with how strongly he felt like an extension of me. His skin and his smell just felt so familiar and I loved holding him as close to me as I could. That hasn’t changed and he’s now four years old! It’s the same with Sophie, there is something so unique, and yet familiar about her that just tells me she’s mine. People say she looks like me and I love that. I love that I have a daughter that I feel so connected to on so many levels.

I feel so lucky that I get to be a full time mother, I know so many women don’t have that choice. I love being at home with them and being the one to teach them and help them. I want to be the one to answer their questions and show them how to be kind and caring. I love being here when they wake up right until they fall asleep. I love that they shout for me when they need something. I just love hearing little voices shouting ‘mummy’ and sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am.

Yesterday and today we have been treated to a George and Sophie ‘show.’ We are instructed to clap at the beginning and the end and there is strictly no talking throughout the performance. They hold hands and jump and dance wildly. Sometimes we get the odd ‘Let it go’ thrown in there too. My face hurts from smiling once it’s over.

Right now, they are playing with their wooden dolls house from Great Granny. Sophie is carefully tucking one of the dollies into bed, while George is padlocking the furniture together. They are their own people and I’m just so glad I get to look after them for just a little while.

Gemma