Parenthood poetry

 

I woke tired and grumpy today

after a night with an unsettled little

and a lie-in that was broken up by prodding fingers

and shouts and shrieks.

I went outside to the garden, cradling a cup of tea

drank in some sunshine,

picked the last of the sweetpeas,

took a few moments to myself

and felt more like me.

Reminded myself –

I’m lucky to wake entwined with little limbs.

I’m lucky, that when I finally open my eyes in response to the twenty-seventh, “Mummy?”, I’m greeted with the widest grins.

I’m lucky to hear the sound of my noise-makers and their fighting/singing/musical band.

I’m lucky to get out of bed each day to their outstretched arms and pulling hands.

I’m lucky.

And I’m very grateful for coffee.