7 Kisses Goodnight

I look at you in wonder, my beautiful blonde haired boy.

Your perfect little nose, your expressive brow. The wrinkle that appears when you laugh from your belly. You almost always laugh in your sleep at least once. Its both terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

Your breath which is rested and contented. Lulling you into sweet dreams.

Your lashes which could make a supermodel envious. You’ll create waves with those lashes, your very own breeze maker.

Your cupids bow still puckered, that wonderful little baby pout which you’ve never lost.

And the air around you, still, silent and comforting.

We always nod off together; head in lap, your hand on your chest with the other touching me, making sure I haven’t gone far.

That comfort and reassurance help you drift off to slumber but you’ll never realise its you comforting and reassuring me.

When I know you’re in a deep sleep, I move you up so that I cradle you. Your neck in the crook of my arm, your long body draped across my legs and your hand instinctively grasping at my ‘spot’ under my chin.

I take you all in. You could have been a monster ALL DAY LONG (trust me, it happens), but those sweet moments I get to hold you without you struggling to run away or blowing raspberries or squealing from tickles, are some of my most happiest minutes.

Time could stop and it wouldn’t matter.

My whole world is in my arms.

I nuzzle your cheek and feel your soft skin and I give 7 kisses. 6 little kisses then a big firm kiss at the end.

I could kiss you all day long and I am always asking for one from you, but the 7 kisses goodnight are the best.

I could be swamped with chores or needing to get out and run round the block, but I never leave without my 7 kisses.

They are a Mother’s kisses to her boy. Her baby. Her love.

7 Kisses Goodnight.

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A Sign

There’s lot of things happening in the world of Crimp. Changes yet again in our little world. Never people to ebb and flow, we are once again flying by the seat of our pants. More on that to come soon.

I’ve been struggling. Really struggling. Outwardly I look alright. Tired perhaps, working hard will do that to you. But inwardly, my heart is heavy. It’s being crushed by anxiety. It’s physically dragging me down. I caught a glimpse the other day and I saw that I was slouched and aimless. My awesome posture long gone.

Timehop is both a blessing and a curse. It’s reminding me of the little things that inevitably bring me to my 1st anniversary. Little nuisances of unbearable pain from what would have been my last ever period, to the slow wait to have my scan on the 2nd October. I’ve deleted and re-installed the app, my own form of torture I think.

I am dreading the 2nd of November. It can’t possibly be nearly a year since my life, our life changed completely.

Is it really only a year? I’ve aged far more than that.

The brink of tears has been ever more present of late; sometimes I let them come. Tumbling from my eyes like they are trying to escape my inner hell.
Sometimes I can blink away and move on and get on with whatever spreadsheet happens to be open.

I’ve been looking for peace, even for just a little while.
My Mum, an awesome present finder, once gave me a pouch with some little stones which, on each one, has wish, love and hope on them. Somehow, I lost the hope stone and at the time I laughed. Of course I lost hope, what the fuck was my life going to entail!

Today, I changed my hand bag and whilst clearing it of the 40,000 receipts and other toddler debris most mothers carry, and there tucked into a corner pocket, I found this…

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Of late, I’ve really found it difficult to comprehend anything to happen for a reason, and my faith really has taken a beating, but I’m trying, really trying to see this as a turning point.

Someone, somewhere wanted me to find my hope again.

A sign. Lets hope I can let it back in.