It’s early morning in the TDF household. Over the past week or so, my youngest has started the morning by wandering bleary-eyed into our bedroom, with his hands aloft wanting to come in bed for a snuggle. I lift him up and lie him on top of me. Within moments our breathing falls into pace with each other. His fingers intertwine with my own, whilst his other hand mindlessly play with his every present muzzy. He wriggles his feet between my legs to warm them up, and we lie still. At moments like these, it’s easy to forget what is wrong with the world. The big things like wars fade to the back of my mind, and the small things like last nights tantrum disappear completely. This morning we lay like that for over half an hour. It was bliss. At some point he is going to stop wanting to come and do this, so I hold these moments close, they are precious.
At some point, my daughter wanders in. Talking about something typically bizarre…
“Mummy, I’m sad”
“Oh no! Why?”
“It started when my tummy was full yesterday”
“Does your tummy hurt?”
“No, my nose”
We descend downstairs for breakfast, and no doubt chaos will resume over the next hour or so, but for now, I’m going to try and remember the wonderful snuggle I shared with with my ‘baby’ this morning.