For me, so much about mamahood is ritualisitc. I'm a big one for routine and as a result, so are the boys. If we vary from the routine, there is potential for things to go awry. And sometimes, this can't be helped, naturally. With the onset of hot, sultry temperatures and sun shiny days, the beach has been calling us, regularly. This week we've spent two crazy mornings on the sand... and for the most part, frolicking in the ocean. I do a little less frolicking and more of the on duty life guard role. Felix is fearless and I can already see that he will be affectionately dubbed this way as he grows bigger and even more adventurous. He carries little of the trepidation his older brother does (and always has), charging headlong into powerful waves and getting bowled over. Gasping with laughter and excitement as the water draws back out to sea, dragging his chubby hands and legs deeper beneath the sandy surface. Afraid? Not a bit.
These days on the coast are a part of the ritual. I can only describe them as being the same, but different. Fun and happiness, mixed with effort and tension. It is seriously hard work being responsible for two small humans, in a place so lovely, yet one that can be unpredictable and dangerous. But we keep going back and no doubt, always will.
Of all the rituals I have as a Mama, my favourite would have to be bedtime. The method may be unconventional and fly in the face of everything the books tell us not to do, but it works for us. That speaks volumes to me. Last night, as I sat on the lounge, Felix snuggled into my chest after demolishing his bottle. I experienced the inner peace, so often felt at the end of the day. Angus lay next to me, my free hand in his and gently drifted into sweet slumber. There are days, nights, weeks, months, when Mamahood is all a bit groundhog day. Then there are the evenings, when my boys are close and cuddly and needing me as much as I need them. And ALL is ok in my world.