By The Duchess, 22nd January 2019

The S**t my Kids Say!

The Day your Child Hits a Raw Nerve

The Day your Child Hits a Raw Nerve

We all laugh at the innocence of children. Sometimes you just have to thank the Lord that you are not in public when they come out with some of the stuff that is rattling around in their brains. At such a young age, they have no filter and no social conscience. It’s not their fault.

But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting sometimes when the words do come out.

Last week, after a particularly long week of work, I was taking a well earned long hot bubble bath. The kind that you slip into carefully with a glass of red in one hand and a bar of chocolate in the other. I rarely have the chance to take one of these kinds of baths. Generally, it’s when the kids are at Nana’s for the weekend. That’s when I can slip into a bath at a reasonable hour and let all my cares melt away (because let’s face it, after the rigmarole of bath and bedtime for the kids, the last thing you feel like doing is running a bath for yourself.)

This bath time was different though. Let me set the scene.

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I had just finished a pretty horrendous day at work. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. The school run was hellish with particularly snide looks from a few of the mother dragons at the bus stop. Probably due to the fact that my usually silky locks were stuffed back in a bird-nest style bun with tear and mascara stained cheeks. This is not the look I generally go for when picking up my children from the bus. But as I said, it had been a bad day.

Things didn’t get better when I got home. The kids were grumpy, my husband was being a first class twat and a host of other issues had made my blood pressure rise and my anxiety spike! It was NOT a good day.

The only thing getting me through the day was the thought of a long hot bubble bath. So, I politely told my (at the time) twat of a husband that he could sort out the kids’ dinner and I was off for a wee sob among the bubbles.

Slipping into the bath I felt utter relief. Amazing how some hot water and chemically perfected bubble bath liquid can just melt the day away – that and of course the gorgeous blood red liquid I had just generously poured into a rather large glass.

As the day melted away and the tears of frustration left my puffy eyes, my beautiful angelic eldest daughter poked her head around the bathroom door.

“Mummy. Can I have an ‘elaxing’ bath with you?”

Her gorgeous voice and her cute mistakes made me smile.

So I let her slip into the bath with me and enjoy the sound of relaxing music surrounded by essential oil candles. A hug from my daughter. That was all I needed. I felt instantly better.

“Mummy. I love you”

My heart was instantly full “I love you too my darling”

“Mummy when I grow up I want to be just like you”. I swear every mother dreams of hearing those words at some point. To have your daughter think you are so perfect they want to be like you. Those thoughts won’t last long into her teenage years so I take them, memory shot them and bank them away in my happy place.
“Aww, sweetheart. You are perfect just the way you are.”

“Yes, but when I grow up I want to be like you, and look like you…”
wait for it folks… cause here comes the kicker…

“and have really long boobs just like you!”

Wow.

Sucker punch to the gut!

Bless her cotton socks, she meant it in the nicest possible way. I know she did because after she said those stinging words she gave me the most heart-melting smile and biggest hug. Me, I just sat there stunned.

Those boobs my darling are long because of you. Those boobs my darling fed you and nurtured you. Those boobs my darling… you will have boobs just like them when you are older and have kids of your own. So, my darling girl – I will kindly remind you of this conversation in 20 years time when you are staring at yourself in the mirror.

The s**t my kids say. Their perfect gorgeous innocent minds that have no idea what they are saying.

I got out of the bath that night smiling and giggling to myself. The stresses of the day gone and I wasn’t angry or upset. Because my daughter sees my flaws, my imperfections, my tears, and my stretch marks – and loves me anyway. Sometimes that is all that matters.

What did you think?

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