For the love of...

When Saz and I began with Mad, Manic Mamas, for me it was a chance to share the trials and the tribulations (and the triumphs) of bringing up Teen Terrorists.

For a long time, I wondered where had my baby gone? The one that gave me hugs full of warmth I could live on, like pure air. ...The one I loved more than life itself.

In its place, there was this snarling, swearing, brattish devil-child, who could bring me to tears of frustration and mad grief.

So, that part fulfilled the 'Mad' part of the blog title which was all of Saz's making.

And I was 'Manic' all right. I tore my hair and rent my clothes with grief. I didn't go so far as to cover mirrors, but I feared all was lost. My love would not return to me.

But I had sweet snapshots, from time to time, of the child that had gone before. Loving, caring and kind. Funny and clever. Bright and warm.

That, and the succour here from writers and readers at 'Mad, Manic Mamas' kept me this side of Sane. Thankfully. Thank you.

And now he is at University. He calls me for slight assistance with his essays. He asks me for advice. He sends me kisses and love by text. And the occasional growl. He gives me hugs with the strength and the passion of a bear. He seems to have grown to appreciate his parents, 'Rents, he calls us, and all the love we have given him, unquestioningly, over the years.

I am glad, full-heart of it.