Today, it is an anniversary. A milestone of sorts. An achievement worthy of recognition.
Today, I celebrate having been a Mum for eleven years. Ironically, it is also my eldest son’s 11th birthday! Who’d’ve guessed it!
I’m proud to announce that no one has died, been abducted, or broken a limb. Despite considerable attempts to do all three, sometimes at the same time. No one has been mortally wounded. In fact, there have barely been scars. Not permanent ones anyone. Just one’s that can be cured by band aids.
No one has had food poisoning, at least, not at my hands.
No one has become an axe murderer or serial killer. At least, not yet anyway.
The last eleven years have been full of pants wetting laughter, great heaving, gut-wrenching