Saturday, 1 February 2014


The thing with having boys is that they are ROUGH! I love chasing giggling chubby boys and gathering them up and kissing their tummies as much as the next person.  I love pretending to eat them. Things like that.  But I tell you. I cannot sit on the couch without being attacked. Roughly!  Boy-ly.

I'm pretty sure Angus was a hairs-breadth away from breaking my nose today! (ow!!)

The thing is, this is the sort of thing they inherited straight from their Daddy's genepool.  'Rough-housing' (as mudsy calls it) is not something I find enjoyable or have EVER done (unless engaged in ferocious violent fights with my sisters as a young child).  On the other hand, Ben still actively searches out opportunities to wrestle--it's one of his all time favourite things. The problem is, due to his job, he is gone a lot, and can go for a stretch of 5 days without seeing the kids.  So it is up to me, a 'delicate' girl, to satisfy my boys' wild wrestling impulses. I get my head bashed a lot.

When Ben is off, I put him straight to work.

1 comment:

  1. haha, I can imagine the pain of an exuberant head impacting at high speeds into one's cheekbone. Poor 'fub.