A Mothers Ramblings: Mornings

Wednesday, 23 October 2013


We've got used to our new routine of Daddy not being here in the mornings during the week. When he leaves, I sit in bed and read my Scriptures and get ready for the day before the children are awake. You can always tell if my day is going well if I instagram a picture of my socks...

Pictures of my Socks

After I wake up the children, we sit and eat breakfast together. Sometimes I read to them, sometimes we listen to the Radio, or watch a cartoon or Youtube video together. After breakfast and the inevitable last minute rush to find a missing school shoe, coat or school bag we take a picture outside of the house to send to Daddy, because he doesn't see the house in daylight five days out of seven, and then start the walk to school.

The Children about to go to School

We talk about what is coming up that day, what is happening that evening, if we are going to let Top Ender walk home alone, if we have something important to do that day. We test each other on spellings and give simple math calculations for each other to work out.

We say goodbye to Top Ender in the KS2 playground. She runs off to see her friends, to catch up on the news that she has missed in the last 17 hours (of which most of them have been asleep for at least ten of them) but she always makes sure that she hugs and kisses both Big Boy and I. It's a delight for me to see her laughing with her friends, sharing jokes that only they understand, or practising dance routines to songs they love.

Top Ender and Big Boy saying goodbye in the playground

Big Boy finds ways to prolong the time I spend with him. He'll go with me to hand in his Diabetes bag to the School Office, wishing the staff a good morning and showing them which ever cuddly toy he has brought with him for an adventure that day. We walk back out and sit on one of the benches, having a hug and I reassure BB that I love him, that he's my best boy and that I'll see him when I'm back at lunchtime to do his injection. We walk to the door, where I hand over his book bag and lunch box and water bottle and he hands me his teddy. The last thing I give him is always a tissue, with which he wipes his eyes declaring tearfully that he loves me the most ever and a kind TA distracts him whilst I walk away.

And then I come home, where I can see the smudges that my children have left on the doors and walls and I wonder if one day this new routine will just be a memory and I'll wish myself back to a time where I was loved the most ever, where my daughter wasn't too old that she'd kiss me and her brother in front of her friends and I wish that we could freeze this perfect moment in time.