Poetry of the small

Fergus is an interesting "waker-upper" - earlier this week he literally woke himself up laughing. He was definitely asleep when he started laughing, but was wide awake by the time he finished, laughing away, saying the girl driving the car was so funny?! Effie and I never did really figure out what exactly was so funny, but we were in hysterics too before all was done - he is contagious our boy! What a way to start the day!

It isn't always happy though. A few weeks ago he woke up from a bad dream quite upset. We cuddled and when he was feeling better he said "I'll give you my black dreams and you can colour them and make them happy". What more could a mother ask for than the trust of her smalls to take their black and fill it with colour?

Our mornings together are some of my most precious times with my kids. So much is shared at the edges of sleep, in the wee hours and in the morning. I am scrunched in between the two I bore for the actual sleeping (or not sleeping as the case may be), and on occasion I have been known to complain about that... But it all fades away in comparison to the glory of being in the heart of my kids when they need and want me most. Sometimes the poetry of their words in those fuzzy hours acts to jolt me right back to the centre of my world - I am exactly where I need to be. What a way to start the day!