Mother of two

Seems a strange thing sometimes, but now you are both so big - like actual people rather than toddlers - I finally feel like a mother of two. Two children that fill my house with so much NOISE and laughing and running. Some days, pulling up outside the house after work, trying to empty my head of decisions and power points and skinny lattes, I switch the engine off and sit, just for a moment, in complete silence. It seems strange, like a ringing in my ears. This is my decompression chamber, just for a few seconds there is nothing. Then a pull, irresistible, to the front door - the key in the lock, and, if I'm lucky, a shout and running feet to meet me and I'm pulled back into the noise of you both again. Imi, you are three and very pleased about it. You've stretched, grown into a big girl. Your hair is growing darker and slightly straighter, and your body grows alternately out and up.. We're currently in an 'out' phase and you are round and cuddly, solid and substantial. When you hug me you cling on tightly, wrapping your arms round my neck and pushing your face into my neck. I breathe you in.

Rafferty, you are five and a schoolboy. A skinny little thing, with knees bigger than your thighs and big feet. You love Lego, building things, shooting games, play fights and shouting. Stories about animals often make you cry, there are film endings we have to avoid because the happy music at the end makes you well-up, you're full of emotion, and sometimes it spills out in ways you're not quite in control of. I love how much you feel. I watched you this evening, building a Lego dinosaur, and the concentration on your face, and wondered at the different versions of you that fill my house with noise. I can live without the ringing in my ears for this.