A mini miracle occurred today. For at least fifteen minutes this morning Ella, Louis and Theo played together. Properly. Imaginary stuff…proper playing! The TV was off, I had crept upstairs to have my daily world’s fastest shower and as I made the bed and did the usual faffing it slowly dawned on me that the sounds coming from downstairs were pleasant, chirpy ones. Nobody was crying. Or grizzling. Or screeching for me, repeatedly. It was a little unnerving. Pillows plumped and make up hastily applied I paused at the top of the stairs knowing full well that if I went down the magic would immediately be broken and chaos and conflict would reign again. It really was such a novelty to hear them and one of those, still rare, moments when I caught a glimpse of the future and decided that it didn’t actually look too bad.
Maybe it won’t always feel like I’m refereeing a Saturday afternoon wrestling match between Big Daddy and Giant Haystacks circa 1976. Maybe I won’t always be on red alert – poised for the next attack, melt down, ready to dive in and restore some kind of order, whatever that means.
Three and a half is a gorgeous age. Still your babies but full of ideas and questions about the world and in Ella’s case, ready to take it on. Single handedly . You tell yourself you’ll remember every cute thing they say. That every back to front, upside down sentence will be carefully cataloged and filed away. I’ve forgotten a lot of them already…
Still in the thick of it, still staggering through each day feeling like a rather useless contestant on Total Wipeout but the moments are there. Lots of them. And they don’t all draw blood. Whi