Another birthday.

Yes, it's my birthday today. When you get to my age, you kind of stop thinking about the numbers.

As I lay in bed last night, trying to fall asleep at the start of yet another birthday, I started reflecting. On things I've done - trying to stay positive rather than dwell on the inevitable mistakes I've made in my life.

Of all the things I've done, I decided that what I'm most proud of are my children. Yes, they drive me nuts sometimes - Monkey is particularly challenging and hard work quite a bit although he decided off his own back to make "be nice" his New Year's resolution. They are however gorgeous, funny, intelligent and loving. I've had oodles of birthday cuddles today and they count for way more than any present ever would.

In other matters, do you like my cake? Made it myself. It's a bit of a monster - hazelnut meringue cake with hazelnut ganache, strawberries and cream.

Happy birthday to me!

Mother Love

Can you see the pride shining from her eyes? Her little family, one boy and one girl. Maybe not perfect, but they make her proud. They can take some looking after and they work her hard. Occasionally, she falls short of the challenge, but don't we all? Sometimes, they make her cry, but they also bring her endless joy. Their love for her is as unconditional and fierce as the love she feels in her heart for them. She protects them as if she were a tigress protecting her cubs. Like any mother, she is not perfect and, try as she might, she has a favourite who gets a little more attention and time than the other. She hates to leave them, but it has to be done. She feels guilty leaving them in the care of another. After all, you never know, do you? How can anyone else care for them in the same way that she does? How can anyone else love them as much to look after them as well? The looks on their faces when she gets home after a long day say it all. Well, to her anyway.

She is the embodiment of Mother Love, aged 4. Even if they are adopted, they are her children and she is their mother.

Missy Woo and her little family

A note for Mum

Do you know those days? Where the kids run rings around you in the morning and won't co-operate, nothing else seems to go right, and you feel like the whole word is against you? Where you don't know what's right or what's wrong anymore and you wonder why you bother? Yeah? Yeah.

I had one of those the other day. It was going pretty badly, as days go. Then, I collected the children from school and on the way home, Missy Woo told me that she had done some writing at school and that the teachers had taken a copy so she could bring it home. It sounded a bit strange, but I thought nothing of it. After all, Thursday is a bit like my Monday as Monkey has football and we end up dashing back and forth so I don't have to think, just do.

We got home and Missy Woo got her things out of her book bag. She gave me this:

And you know what? My bad day evaporated in an instant. It didn't matter anymore. The spellings didn't matter. She had chosen the words and wrote them herself. It made me smile - if not grin inanely - and I suddenly didn't feel like a bad mother after all. I may have shed a small tear, of happiness of course.

As someone pointed out to me on Twitter, to know that she feels secure and wants to share that feeling is beautiful. They also suggested that I get it framed. And do you know what? I think I will.

She may be only 4 years old, but she never ceases to amaze.

(Thanks to @TheBoyandMe for inspiring this post)