Dear Baby Girl and Bouncing Boy
Let’s talk about getting up. May we talk frankly? I know we can, darling children.
I know you both know how much I love sharing a bed with you. I know you both know how the sound of your slow deep breaths, rousing me from slumber every morning, is the sweetest moment of my day. I know you both know how much I love snuggling close in those first fuzzy moments of consciousness. I know you both know how I love being the first thing you see when you open your eyes, just inches from mine, still heavy and bleary with sleep. Yes, those moments are pure gold darling children. Moments when cuddling up as a family in one bed just feels so right.
Just one teeny tiny request if I may?
Less of the 5am starts.
5am is not morning, my darlings. 5am is not breakfast time. Yikes, 5am isn’t even Mr Tumble time – definite proof we’re not supposed to be up yet.
Don’t get me wrong Bouncing Boy. I loved making carrot muffins with you before the sun came up last Saturday morning. Seeing you cracking eggs and playing with the oven was the perfect wake up call. And Baby Girl, I can’t thank you enough for making music while we worked. You’re right; it’s never too early for a spot of saucepan percussion.
And when it comes to breakfast, don’t listen to Down-to-Earth Dad; I never get fed up of picking cemented banana out of your hair á la Baby Lead Weaning. I mean at a certain point why even bother with a bib? Let’s just mash the fruit into our PJs and be done with it.
But the very best thing about doing the early shift last Saturday? I got to feel like a real Earthy Mummy for nearly a whole hour – the sort whose house smells like home-baking and whose kids eat carrot muffins for breakfast while the rest of the world wastes time in bed. Slackers! No matter that the kitchen looked like a compost heap and the muffins tasted like playdough…
Still, if you can stretch it till seven this weekend, my darlings, those muffins might taste all the sweeter.
All my love,