While I was at work today my Sprocket shut his daddy and baby sister in the shed. And bolted the door.
Then my Sprocket went back to the house to raid the fridge and watch TV. My Beloved tells me that every so often my Sprocket would stroll back down the garden to check on his daddy and sister. Having satisfied himself all was as it should be, my Sprocket would then ignore his sister's plaintive and then infuriated 'Bru-tha? Bru-tha? Bru-tha!' and his daddy's attempts at negotiation and return to the house.
Finally, after an hour or so (according to my Beloved's story) my Beloved managed to put out the tiny back window to the shed and climb out. It is a very small, high window and my Beloved is not particularly small, so I am a little regretful I do not have photos.
Meanwhile, warm and snug at work... I was writing...
You gave me a big long hug for mother's day, my Sprocket. You hugged me for a long long time and held my face in your hands and I looked into your lovely eyes and wondered that you were my own.
You put your cheek to mine and told me 'hug', my Poppet, then demanded 'the other side' for more milk. And I couldn't believe how lucky I am that you are mine.
My kind and courageous adventurer and my creative and mischievous princess. You are both my little snuggle-up-aguses - and there's no such thing as too many hugs.
Thinking of you both I grin and am catapulted back to my very-first-mother's-day as a mummy.
My Sprocket, you were still summersaulting inside me and about the size of an orange, with teeny tiny hands and feet, fingers and toes. I lay huddled in jumpers and robes and quilts in bed at our coast house feeling freezing cold, horrifically sick and euphorically happy that you were on your way. That every day you were growing bigger and were closer to coming out into the world where we could meet you. I'd just thrown up my mother's day brunch and was sucking desperately on an anti-nausea lollipop. At the foot of the bed a wonderful armful of heady smelling lilies sat on the bookcase and I looked at them and put my hand on my still-fairly-flat-tummy (about the last time for that! sigh...!) and thought that if our precious little bublet was a girl there would be a lily in her name as they smelt and looked so divine. And of course we had you first, my dearest Sprocket and from the second I saw you I knew you were the most beautiful, miraculous thing in the whole entire universe. (But we saved the Lily for your sister!)
And do you know, apart from the sheer joy of having such an enterprising and entertaining rapscallion of a son, and two healthy, happy, beautiful children, I do believe one of the best presents I got this mother's day was not being the one locked in a dark and freezing shed for an hour...
Then my Sprocket went back to the house to raid the fridge and watch TV. My Beloved tells me that every so often my Sprocket would stroll back down the garden to check on his daddy and sister. Having satisfied himself all was as it should be, my Sprocket would then ignore his sister's plaintive and then infuriated 'Bru-tha? Bru-tha? Bru-tha!' and his daddy's attempts at negotiation and return to the house.
Finally, after an hour or so (according to my Beloved's story) my Beloved managed to put out the tiny back window to the shed and climb out. It is a very small, high window and my Beloved is not particularly small, so I am a little regretful I do not have photos.
Meanwhile, warm and snug at work... I was writing...
You gave me a big long hug for mother's day, my Sprocket. You hugged me for a long long time and held my face in your hands and I looked into your lovely eyes and wondered that you were my own.
You put your cheek to mine and told me 'hug', my Poppet, then demanded 'the other side' for more milk. And I couldn't believe how lucky I am that you are mine.
My kind and courageous adventurer and my creative and mischievous princess. You are both my little snuggle-up-aguses - and there's no such thing as too many hugs.
Thinking of you both I grin and am catapulted back to my very-first-mother's-day as a mummy.
My Sprocket, you were still summersaulting inside me and about the size of an orange, with teeny tiny hands and feet, fingers and toes. I lay huddled in jumpers and robes and quilts in bed at our coast house feeling freezing cold, horrifically sick and euphorically happy that you were on your way. That every day you were growing bigger and were closer to coming out into the world where we could meet you. I'd just thrown up my mother's day brunch and was sucking desperately on an anti-nausea lollipop. At the foot of the bed a wonderful armful of heady smelling lilies sat on the bookcase and I looked at them and put my hand on my still-fairly-flat-tummy (about the last time for that! sigh...!) and thought that if our precious little bublet was a girl there would be a lily in her name as they smelt and looked so divine. And of course we had you first, my dearest Sprocket and from the second I saw you I knew you were the most beautiful, miraculous thing in the whole entire universe. (But we saved the Lily for your sister!)
And do you know, apart from the sheer joy of having such an enterprising and entertaining rapscallion of a son, and two healthy, happy, beautiful children, I do believe one of the best presents I got this mother's day was not being the one locked in a dark and freezing shed for an hour...
LOL
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