I can hardly believe that today, two years ago, this tiny little bundle came into my life. She was a teeny tiny little pink ball, trying so very hard to open her eyes to see the world she’d been thrusted into. To this day, every night (and probably forever) I still tell her she’s my angel, my baby bunny, my beautiful girl.

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I’ve been giving Sam more treats lately. Not every day and certainly not every meal, but you know, I’m like he’s three, almost three-and-a-half. He can have a damn cookie. So he gets treats like Tiny Teddies, Hello Panda and the occasional Ferrero Rocher (only when he’s been very very good mainly because that’s my treat).

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Thursday is my favourite day of the week. Every day has its own merits – Mondays to Wednesdays I have no kids, sometimes I’m working, often I catch up with friends and eat ice cream. So by all means, they’re good days. Fridays I have both kids (read: hectic) but we also have our regular FriYAY playdate so that’s fun. Saturdays and Sundays need no explanation. But Thursdays are my favourite, and they’re the ones I spend with Sofi.

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I had a really random thought about my mum the other night. Literally, late at night before I fell asleep, a memory that had never been more than a passing thought popped into my head. I recalled my first day of kindergarten. My mum had taken me to school on the back of her push bike and introduced me to my new friends and teachers. I wasn’t too phased initially and wandered into the room, curious about everything around me. I looked back and my mum was there by the window, with all the other mums, waving – probably holding back tears – but putting on a brave face for their little people, starting school for the first time. I waved at my mum, and wandered further into the room. A few minutes later, I turned to look again and my mum had gone. Panic swelled from my heart to my throat. I cried and cried.

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