An idea of how dishevelled I can look first thing in the morning... and last thing at night
… and last thing at night.
These can be the most frustrating times of day for a parent of small children. You are knackered, you are potentially at your most vulnerable, probably dishevelled, perhaps in need of a drink (coffee or cava depending on which end of the day of course) and definitely in need of more sleep (morning, noon and night, anyone?).
You wish that you could reason with them. But they haven’t reached that stage yet. They will mostly likely be trying your patience.
Whether they are in your bed with you at the very crack of doom, pulling your hair and rummaging in your pyjama top, or refusing to settle down for sleep after endless last cuddles and readings of The Story of Miss Moppet, the path of true peace and quiet is unlikely to run smooth.
So far so frustrating. So far so familiar. And then there is the unmitigated privilege of hearing what these little fledglings have to say first thing in the morning… and last thing at night.
Now I make no claim to know my arse from my elbow at 6am, but who other than my daughter, future speechwriter and advisor to prime ministers, presidents and ambassadors to far off galaxies, would think to remind me where I might find my nose and eyes the very moment the light goes on in the morning? Sometimes the obvious really does need stating.
Dreams of the Aquarium and finding Nemo there
And then of course there is bedtime. My own personal Everest, which I climb at the end of each day. Some nights I get to say goodnight, turn off the light and go downstairs for the rest of the evening. Other nights I get to stay with Bibsey until the very moment of sleep. She keeps me guessing. As much as I would prefer her to go straight to sleep every night without my assistance, it is the nights when I am needed that I get to hear the very last thoughts passing through her child’s mind before sleep.
The stream of consciousness, which depends on who we saw (or skyped) and what we did that day, goes a little something like this.
“Stawberry, stawberry, stawberry, Gigi. Shark*. Reuben, Reuben, Lisa, Thomouse [sic]. Dom Dom, Vivi, Mon Mon. Mickey, Mickey, Mickey, Mickey, Mickey. Margo. Lola, Stawberry, yogot. Fishes. Bella”
Is this her list of things that make her happy? Family, friends, food and fun? Not a bad list.
I am linking this post up with The Happiness Project over at Kate Takes 5 where she is inviting people to ask their children what makes them happy and share the responses. I suspect that the answers will be the simple things in life and might provide a good template for us all. Now I couldn’t actually ask Bibsey what makes her happy, we are not at that level of conversation yet, but that doesn’t mean that she does not tell me in her own way everyday.
What makes you happy? Leave a comment or join Kate’s Blog Hop and share the joy.
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*Not as food. Not in soup. Please don’t call PETA. We went to the aquarium.
