When we played "house" when I was little my sister and I always fought over who was the mother (nobody wanted to be the dad) and we always wanted our name to be "Cindy" (the coveted name). We would sweep my mum's Avon samples of eye shadow under our eyes, fill up our tea pots with hot water in the bathroom sink, and croon to our babies, since we both ended up being mummies.

Now that it's for real, I do love being the mummy. I like being the cuddler and the kisser, the one who plans meals and shops for new rainboots. I like biking my girl to school in the mornings and picking up Jasper from preschool where he waves his painted artwork for my approval. I rub backs, pick out clothes, plan the week, read a lot of books.

One of the things that I love the most about being the mum, is watching them with their daddy. Of course, when we got married, I had no idea he'd be so amazing but I had a good guess that by the way he loved me so generously that he'd be a great father.

He takes them on errands and dates. He makes the boys feel strong and able. He makes Ruby feel smart and beautiful. He breaks bedtime rules and forgets to give them fruit with their meals but it doesn't matter at all because he is fun. He listens, he wrestles, he hugs, he disciplines. He secretly laughs with me about the quirky stuff they do that we shouldn't laugh about in front of them. He prays for them and cares about their hearts.

He and Ruby have a special thing going on. She dearly loves me...and she dearly loves her dad.

I grabbed them for five minutes of pictures in the front yard the other day. Disclaimer: the beard was from a work week away and I hadn't complained about scratchy kisses enough at this point to get him to shave :) .

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I love them.