First, there is Mr Junebug. The calm, sensible voice of reason who, with a smile and a ‘yes honey,’ supports me on my many ventures. After growing up with only brothers, he is now the lone soldier in a house of hormones; it’s a foreign territory that he treads with love and caution.
And of course, our two Junebugs – K + M.
K is three. This girl has talked in sentences since the day she was born (or there abouts), and literally has not stopped since. She doesn’t even understand what it means to not talk. You ask her to stop talking with a mouth full of food, and she just whispers instead. “But Mum, I’m not talking – I’m just whispering.”
She will talk to anyone, any time, anywhere. And she’s pretty much the funniest person I know.
M is eight months old. She has a smile which melts hearts; and eyes that sparkle with mischief – she looks angelic. She is however, quite the handful. Crawling at five months, standing unassisted at eight months; she’s climbs and she doesn’t sleep. And my goodness does she love her mum – she’s my velcro baby.
And though she has me deliriously tired; I can’t help but love her spark.
And then there’s me – mum, nurse, photographer, enthusiastic crafter and now blogger. And I’m just over here, trying to make light of the challenging bits.