Having one child I feel bad complaining about how much of a handful he can be, I see mums with two or three kids and think oh my god. Don’t get me wrong I can’t wait to have more kids but by god does Lincoln exhaust me! Just thinking of another Lincoln makes me want to take a nap!
But boys are just a whole different breed! A breed that runs naked through the house shouting mummy shaking his willy at you and then running away. I see my friends with their little girls wearing beautiful dresses and playing with there baby born or my little pony, they look so innocent, so calm and graceful.
And then there is boys- Lincoln, with dirt under his finger nails, some form of fluid on his face whether it’s snot or dribble and a cheeky grin to go along with it all! If he isn’t climbing on me and constantly digging an elbow or foot into my kidneys, he’s jumping around knocking Tom in areas That should not be knocked! to date he has given me 2 nosebleeds and a bruised forehead no thanks to a swinging hairbrush- who knew hairbrushes could do damage! He is so rough and tumble! He is loving and kind and very very rarely cuddly and from the impression I get this is totally normal boy behaviour but how do other mums do it with more than one boy?!
He is completely and utterly fearless! The amount of times I’ve caught him about to nosedive off of the edge of the sofa at me screaming mummy is uncountable. At 6 months old he managed to climb to the top of a cat scratching post! When they say you need eyes in the back of your head they are not kidding with this one! Our most recent act of acrobatics has to be catching him on top of his chest of drawers after just popping in to my bedroom to get his clean clothes from the washing pile that I never get around to packing away, I do not know how he got up there, and the mess he had made in his room you wouldn’t believe it was spotless 30 seconds before!
Another boy and I think I could end up in a nursing home very early! The daily mini heart attacks I have and the constant sound of my voice telling Lincoln to get down or to be careful, or continuously telling him if he keeps playing with his willy it will drop off. Doubling that could actually kill me! I am forever in awe of parents of all boys. You guys are heroes.
Mums, dads? My little terror can’t be the only one surely?!