I could dress it up but actually you know what? I hate* mornings. I really hate** mornings!
Pre children (which now feels so long ago I may as well have been walking with dinosaurs!) mornings used to be a leisurely coming to kind of experience. Dawn has broken.
I would listen for the cheeky woodpecker and the birds in the trees outside, the smell of a freshly brewed coffee that MR W&T would have placed beside me. Now he rarely speaks to me pre coffee incase of being scowled and grunted at.
Alas, my kids don’t care for my ‘woe is me’ attitude to the new day. And rightly so! I’ve pretty much got faking ‘happy Mumma’ down to a repeat Oscar winning performance. Once I’ve topped up with coffee and fancy porridge I warm up and all is right with the world again.
It’s a whole new chapter, heck it’s a whole new book having a baby…or 4 in my case and yes you do sacrifice some things but having my own space and time in the morning was something that I’m still not used to.
Sadly my fantasies these days are more about a cheeky ten minutes time alone than time with anyone else!
How are mornings in your house?
Is alone time something you now crave?
Coffee o clock?
Wellies and Tutus
*Insert appropriate expletive here
**Insert that appropriate expletive here again
- I’m Hot For You!
- ‘It gets easier’ and other lies