I want to change my children

by

I grew you, do you know that?
I grew you from being smaller than a spec of sand. Your fingers and thumbs were defined within me; your hearts starting beating next to my own. You all first sucked your thumbs safe inside my chocolate filled belly; you were created with a passion and sustained by love.

So why, since I grew your arms, legs, eyes, mouths and ears can I in no way get you to bend them to my will. I did a superb job in ensuing you all arrived intact, (ok BB was missing one hip, but that is all I lost in the birth canal) but it seems I was pretty bloody useless in creating your control system.

I say stop it and your ears cease to function, I say come here and you wander the other way; and no matter how hard I try I cannot stop the constant flow of green emerging from your noses.

I am sure when I made you I put in a voice command unit but I think one of you removed the others wires as sometimes when you sleep I go looking for it with a torch in your ear.

Either that or the wiring has gone faulty and is permanently stuck in defiance mode.

But I made you, all three of you and you are a jumbled mess of loveliness topped with naughty sprinkles and covered with a mischievous sauce.

Would I change you? Grow you different?

I would, I would indeed.

I would change the recipe just a tad and take out your elephant feet, giving you all little mice footsteps instead.

Those elephant feet were a mistake.

But the rest of you, that can stay, I wouldn’t change a thing.

24 thoughts on “I want to change my children”

  1. It is so hard to be a parent! Nobody can prepare you for what lies ahead! It is hard for me with only one child, I can’t imagine how tough it is with three! I am sure you are doing a great job & no matter what you think, for your children, U are the best mummy in the world! They wouldn’t change a thing!

  3. You’re right, of course. I should celebrate the impertinence, the reliably inconvenient bladders, the physical inability to wield a knife and fork. But I do wonder how the daughter of a welly-wearing, mud-spattered, corduroy-fettered mother should have been born with an assertively advanced bling radar.

  5. Before I had children I was convinced they would always do what I told them to. This evening I tore my vocal chords trying to get them to listen to me at bathtime. I wouldn’t change them because I’m convinced their single-mindedness will be what they need later in life. So I’m a sacrificial mother which I guess we all are.

  6. Teeth – particularly when breastfeeding, but then later when they sink their gnashers into their sibling’s skin, lock jaw becomes the added bonus, followed by hysteria as one child runs around the room with his/her sibling attached to a shoulder blade. Yup, teeth would definitely be my choice!

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