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.