3 under 3: From the mouths of babes…

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3 under 3 blog, mummy blogger
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Amy Condon is a mum to 3 kids, who are all under 3! Yes, you heard us right. Each week she writes about the challenges she faces, the fun times and general ups and downs of having 3 children all at the toddler stage.  

I had a lovely, tender moment with G the other day. Lying face to face, she looked deep into my eyes and smiled. One-on-one time with any of my girls is a rare pleasure. Usually there are at least two of them trying to show me imaginary flowers or climbing up my leg. So my heart melted as G tenderly stroked my face.

‘Mummy,' she said.
‘Yes, baby girl,' I cooed, fit to burst with love.
‘What are those stripes on your face?' she asked.
They were wrinkles. Deflated, I disentangled myself, stood up, and leant over to pick up a discarded raisin.
‘Your big bum is sticking out,' G informed me, poking at the bulging flesh above my waistline.
‘Your nose is big, my nose is small,' added T helpfully.
The blows just kept on coming. Even little M joined in. ‘Dada!' she exclaimed delightedly, holding up her father's old work pass. ‘Dada dada dada!'

Don't get me wrong, I love that she's become attached to her father. It's lovely when she crawls over at top speed, competing with her sisters to get the first cuddle when he walks through the door. And it's not that she doesn't call me by name. No, I'm ‘Mama' all the time. It's just that so far, it's only ever been uttered as a whiny ‘Maaaaaa-mmmaaaaaa' when she's upset or grumpy. Daddy is all excitement and delight. I'm staff.

They do say that parenthood is the toughest job there is, but honestly, if this was my job I'd have jacked it in ages ago. The hours are shocking, I'm expected to work nights and provide free personal care. I cook and clean, and am regularly head-butted in the face. All for no pay. But I suppose the perks are quite good. M's latest trick is ‘kissing'. OK, so it mostly involves attaching herself, limpet-like to my face, but it is adorable. T likes to run over and throw her arms round my neck to tell me she ‘loves Mummy', and little chatterbox G always has me in stitches. ‘Oh, I got confused,' she said the other day when she realised she'd put her trousers on backwards. ‘Silly old G put the tag in the front.' She cracks me up. Still, when she is actually silly old G, I know who's going to be there pointing out her wrinkles...

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