It's been month tomorrow. Cor. What a month. It's been that typical raw mash of extreme emotions. Suffocating love and crazy chaos and crippling exhaustion and total bliss. I've had waves of feeling like some unstoppable wonder woman when it's all going good. Look at me mothering TWO babies, I am woman SEE ME MUMMY-ING! Then it goes bad and I have waves where I feel so incompetent I should probably just call social services on myself now because clearly I will never ever get them to school age without losing/maiming/dropping down the stairs/insert other horrendous parenting outcome at least one of them.
But all the while the good stuff, the bad stuff and the crazy chaotic I'll-never-admit-this-on-my-blog stuff is going on, we're making solid gold memories here. Solid. Gold. And I'm drinking it in, every second. A whole month has vanished already...
Today an older lady stopped us at the garden centre, when we were getting the Christmas tree, to tell how fast her babies had grown up and how now her youngest was 32... I don't doubt her, I don't doubt her for a second and it scares me.
Please slow down baby boy and baby girl.