Every night, just before I tuck myself into bed, I check on my kids in turn. I pull up their covers, tell them there is no one more loved than they and then, just before turning off their night lamps, I stand and gaze. It might only be for a few seconds, a fleeting moment really. But for that brief moment, everything else stands still.
There, as snug as bugs in rugs, are the two most precious things in my life.
During the course of the preceding day, they would have pushed my buttons, done my head in and yes (for I am but an old school mum) made my hand itch. They would have played in perfect harmony, fought like cat and dog, practiced the drums, tormented the dogs, run mud through the house and yelled to me to get them a drink / a towel / a new roll of toilet paper … or lamented loud and long about how terribly, intolerably hungry they were.
There would have been fights over chores, stern words over clothes not put in the hamper and utter bewilderment (on my part) over the sudden and incomprehensable lack of order and neatness in their bedrooms.
There were early morning awakenings, with little faces up close, noses almost touching and their breath on my cheek. Dinner table discussions, last minute homework scurries over breakfast and a kiss blown from the youngest – in perfect unison with an eye roll from the eldest – as I tell them I love them as they alight from the car at the school drop-off.
At work I miss them dreadfully. Even though, in all honesty, some nights I almost wish I worked longer hours! But as their eyes reluctantly close and the Sandman leads them to the Land of Nod, there is that one beautiful moment. It all comes down to that.
It’s there you realize there is nothing you wouldn’t do for these two most precious souls. It’s then you know beyond doubt it’s they who make everything else worthwhile and insignificant at once.
One might say, it’s simply fabulous.