Attention! Attention! My wobbly tooth will come out today!

My six year old Addy has had a wobbly tooth for over a week. It was her first one and has generated much excitement between her and little brother Dylan who wishes he had a wobbly tooth too.

This morning, big sister Taylor was awoken by the sound of Addy outside her bedroom door enthusiastically announcing Attention! Attention! My wobbly tooth will come out today!

Addy was right. By lunch time, the thread of gum clinging to the wobbly tooth finally gave up and out it popped.

Addy looked stunned. Holding the tooth in her little fingers, blood pooling behind her bottom lip, she was literally speechless.

I got her to rinse her mouth out with water and the excited babble returned.

Dylan wanted to have a good look at the tooth and the hole where a tooth had once been. Addy willingly obliged.

Now they are both busy preparing for the arrival of the tooth fairy tonight.

I am very proud of my little gappy girl. She is growing up fast.

A Different Car on the Driveway

There is a different car parked on my driveway today - the car belonging to Taylor's boyfriend, who recently made us all proud by passing his driving test first time. How quickly the boy, who turned up at my house two years ago to woo my daughter, is turning into a man. And a charming, eloquent, funny and thoughtful man too. Very definitely an asset to the family.

Maybe not his best look!

I was browsing through some old photographs yesterday. Below is one of when we first moved to our current home in 2006 with my new partner to start life as a proper family.

From left to right: Taylor, Charis,  Liberty and Ivy with stepdad.

My Charis was was such a tiny little insecure girl then and in a few short years she has blossomed into a beautiful, self-possessed young woman who stands taller than all her sisters...and me.

Having witnessed my children's development to maturity has given me a completely new perspective when it comes to parenting the two little ones from my second marriage.

Some people thought I was mad having babies in my mid forties, at a time when I would otherwise have been slowing down and enjoying more time to myself and more money to spare. Maybe I am mad but if I am - I am happy with my madness. Exotic holidays, designer clothes and regular pampering hold little allure compared with two small warm bodies snuggled into me, two tiny hands holding mine and two pairs of eyes, bright and trusting, looking at me with love. Everything about being a mum to my two little late life miracles fills me with awe, wonder and pure joy.

Dylan and Addy - my sleeping angels

I know that it will feel like the blink of an eye before it is Addy's boyfriend parking his car on my driveway. Until then (and beyond), I intend to continue enjoying every moment.

Shame they have to grow up

I bumped into a neighbour yesterday who looked at my son, remarked how much he had grown and then added "It's a shame isn't it". Another neighbour who had been holding his chubby little hand and cooing at him said that once the dimples on their knuckles disappear they are not worth knowing.

I will never understand this attitude.

I know that they don't really mean it. They are good people who have brought their own children up well but  I couldn't say those kinds of things even in jest. It would seem like an enormous betrayal.

I admit that there is something miraculous about a tiny, vulnerable newborn and I do miss that feeling of holding my own precious infants to my breast and being totally connected. Surely though, part of the miracle is the huge potential of that child to grow and develop and become their own person.

I have loved each and every stage of my four older daughters growing up and I feel incredibly blessed to have a second chance to witness it all again with my two late in life babies.

I love being a mum and playing the part I play in guiding my children on their journey through life. They constantly surprise and delight me and I continue to learn so much from them.

There is something very special about babies but even when my son's soft, chubby, dimpled hands become big gnarly man ones, he will always be my little boy. He will always be special. I will always love him. In the meantime, I will enjoy every moment.