To be loved a goble plex

13 January 2023 | Lochie 4.5 years | Jono 3 years

Putting the boys to bed, I was excited that they were suddenly willing, and in position. After a hot day, dinner outside, water play, ice cream, a bath, two obedient heads shampooed (literally a first for me when neither head screamed), the kids were well pooped and ready for sleep. In sheer disbelief and excitement that my kids were winding down, I started singing and dancing “I like to move it move it”. Jono joined in with “move it” at the end of each verse. Lochie just mumbled “Mum, sleep time now.” No worries, Mr Mature.

I snuggled between the boys as they picked out the planets book. Lochie wanted me to read about Neptune and told me that the core of Neptune being 5000 degrees C was still colder than centre of a large supergiant black hole star that could eat the sun.

Me: Lochie, I love you 100 million.
Loch: (Deep in thought). I love you more than that… I love you a goble plex.
Me: Lochie, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.
Loch: Yeah. It’s a really big number.

He had been asking about large numbers when we were driving to Mum’s a week ago. We landed on Google and Google Plex, I wasn’t even sure he was listening.

I kissed his nose, forehead and cheeks, and his eyes were filled with the most calm, pure and deep love I had seen. How can 4.5 year old eyes express so much? The way he was looking at me, I wondered whether he could see my light in that moment. He was in perfect contentment.

[Image]

After I brought the kids apples in bed (bad but fun habit) we cuddled, they crunched and I sang jazz songs until Jono put his hand over my mouth. “Stop touching my music!”

Last thing I need is a 3 year old giving me a complex about my voice. I begun debating with Jono about the benefits of mummy’s singing, so he upped the game and slapped me in the face with a wet apple. On impulse I pushed him away, anger suddenly flooding the room. In this instance, Lochie, with the calmness of a Buddha, took my chin in his his tiny palm and said, “mummy, stop.” The heat extinguished, Jono and I negotiated that I was allowed to sing, provided it was Jingle Bells on repeat.