When I became a mother I expected everything;
the terrible fevers when I was desperate for sleep
the agony of teething and tantrums and waking up
at 5:00am to a little voice calling from the toilet ‘mummy I’m finished!’
the bitterness of nail biting solutions, the persistent persuasion to eat vegetables
the hectic school runs, the awkwardness of ‘mummy where do babies come from?’
But nobody told me that love is born mature
‘mummy, you rest in bed and I’ll bring you everything you need, okay?’
