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Your Time Will Come, Mama.

Your time will come mama_Ghostwritermummy.co.ukThe newborn days are intense. Long, hard and drawn out- often with little room to breathe, to exhale and to truly appreciate what you have. The days are filled with nappies, endless feeds, laundry loads and missed sleep. Some days are better than others, but mostly- at first- you are completely and utterly tethered┬áto that little person. That little person needs you. That little person relies on you. That little person is your reason for existing. And sometimes, that’s so hard to accept. So hard to place this new life alongside your old life, and move on without hiccups. Without regrets. Without a yearning for those free and easy days of being responsible for just yourself. Those magical days of freedom and fun and feeling like a person rather than a machine. (more…)

22 Comments

Dad

I am four. I am fumbling with tiny buttons on my school shirt. My fingers keep slipping and I’m feeling frustrated and cross. There’s nobody to help me. Everyone is busy. And then you appear by the door, peeping your head around at first, then moving into the room so your presence casts a shadow over my feet. I don’t know if you’re going to be happy, or sad, or mad. I never know what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling, or why you’re so cross all the time. So I stop with the buttons and I wait.

I stand so still.

I just know that it’s strange, you being here. You don’t usually come into my bedroom, and especially before school. Usually you’re gone long before breakfast and that’s just┬áthe way it is. (more…)

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