Friday, 13 April 2012


Moments in our days, when the baby isn't around. Where we recapture the "us" when you were my only child.
The marriage proposal as I hang out the washing, you dressed as Superman, proffering a gaudy plastic ring, because you heard me mention that I always wanted to marry Superman as a young girl.
The picnic lunch of crackers and cheese, and shared brownie in the car. You sighing with pleasure and saying "I love these times" and I know exactly what you mean. You mean you have my undivided attention, no baby standing wobbly on my lap, pulling out of my hair and reaching for everything. It's "just us" again.
The cuddles and fun later as he naps in the back of the car, you on my lap, playing with the mirror, snuggling, doing funny voices, just being you.
You were my first baby love. You are my freckly-nosed imp, your wide features morphing from baby to boy before my eyes. Remnants of your baby body remain: the flesh fold on your thighs, the dimples on your knuckles, your double chin and your big, round, saucer eyes as you suck my milk, with the same force as you did almost four years ago when you were born.
You still need me, but in different ways. You still have me, but in different ways. I miss "just us", I'm sorry for diluting myself to you, caring for another baby. I'm doing my best to give you me. I hope it's enough.

I love you Charlie

Mama X

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