About me: 1 of 7

One of the most important things about me is that I have a couple of these:

  

I have Darcy, six. And Matilda, three. They are almost seven and four. Seven. And Four. How? Anyway, that's a whole other post. So these little kidlings keep me busy most of the time. 

Darcy is a little man. He often says things to me like 'You are beautiful mummy' or 'You are so nice to me, making my breakfast'. It's those little things that count in life. He also notices if I buy new clothes and will always comment appropriately. I firmly believe that it is because he sees his dad do the same thing all the time. I really am lucky to have two amazing boys in my life.

Matilda is, well, me. If I had died at some point in my life, well she is me incarnate. It's really scary actually.  She has the same caring, loving side which can quickly turn evil if things don't quite work out the way she sees fit. She really is my little girl with the little curl, right down the middle of her forehead. My motherist used to say the same thing to me all the time as a little girl and now I truly know what she means. 

Together, as brother and sister, they are amazing. They get on like a house on fire. They play trains and cars, cops and robbers, mums and dads, dogs and cats. You name it, they play it. They even call each other 'hun' and 'darling'. Cute. 

 But. 

Is there anything more soul destroying than fighting? In particular kiddly, bickering, dibber dobbing fighting? I'd say not.

 except maybe working in retail..my soul is still trying to put itself back together

They fight too. A lot. But I reckon that's just kids. I still have a dent in my shin where my sister kicked me during a cat fight as (almost) teenagers. I wonder if it's too late to sue?

I also have one of these:

He's been around for almost nine years. But I can honestly say it feels like much, much less. We say it often. And we feel lucky. He really is my best friend. Half the time is spent rolling my eyes at his stupid 'Dad's joke' routines, the other, cracking up at his quirky jokes and his general bitchiness. Love this man.

We all live together in a modest little house where you will find muddy footy boots at the front door, and unfolded baskets of washing in the living room. Where you don't have to take your shoes off and where you'll more often than not be offered a 'nanna rug' for your knees. It's home. And I love it.

Stay tuned :)