Smells

We hug you goodbye, and I detect a familiar whift of cologne, and the minty freshness of your facial scrub.

Sticky hand in sticky hand ,Your sweaty head nestled on my chest.

A cocktail of baby shampoo and the fish you had for lunch and a milky scent that masks it.

The smell of detergent from our woven wrap, and a hint of the baby wipes I used to wipe your neck.

A dribble of spit fell down my cleavage 

And your burly brother burrowed his sticky, wet stubbly head between my arms. 

This big baby is now turning 5, he reeks of big boy perspiration, salty and sour, with not a hint of fragrance. A cocktail of stinky socks and leftover chocolate stains. He still clings on the baby blanket, one that reeks of stale laundry soap and yesterday's milk, but he beams at me like I am the sun on a wintry morning, as in follow suit and asks for a cuddle.

There are days where it's a constant struggle, but there are days when time stands still, as we board a train on a unexpected adventure and hold you two close to my heart. 

5 years have swam by, in a haze of tears and smiles, and these smells I will treasure, everyday of my life.