Today has been one of those days.
One of those days that hasn’t gone as planned. One of those days that is drawing to a close and has left me exhausted and a little emotional.
Yesterday was also one of those days.
At one point during Monday night I knew. I just knew that Tuesday would be one of those days.
Little Miss H had gone to bed with a snotty nose. Mr H had gone to bed exhausted. Little Mister H had gone to bed late after being restless all evening. And I had gone to bed with the onset of a pounding migraine.
During the night, I heard the all familiar noise of a door open. Then the pitter-patter of tiny feet. And finally a small figure appeared by my side and sweetly said
“I want to come into Mummy and Daddy’s bed. Please can I? Can I?”
Three times the answer was “no” and we escorted our sleeping beauty back to her room. But on the fourth time of asking, I pulled the bed clothes back and allowed our precious daughter to crawl into bed beside me.
I wrapped my arms around her and told her I loved her. I fell asleep with my nose buried in her hair. Listening to the sound of her gentle snoring and of the cute snuffling noises coming from her baby brother in the bed nest next to us.
Mr H’s alarm went off at 05.30. By then the mild pounding headache of the night before had turned into a pulsating migraine. I lay in bed knowing that soon our day would start. Soon we would all have to get washed, dressed and breakfasted. Soon Little Miss H would need to be out the door and on her way to pre-school.
But both of my children were reluctant to wake up. When Little Miss did eventually awaken at 07.00, it was clear that she wasn’t herself. Little Mister H also seemed under the weather.
The thermometer was found in the bathroom and temperatures were checked. Little Miss H would not be going to pre-school.
And so the promise of Shreddies and pink Smarties for breakfast was made. And I conceded that if Little Miss agreed to stay wrapped under the duvet on the sofa then she could wear her favourite stripey summer dress.
The day was filled with endless cups of sugary tea, back to back episodes of Octonauts and snoozes on the sofa.
This morning Little Miss H was better and begging to go to pre-school. She skipped through the door dosed up on Calpol, armed with tissues and filled with exciting stories about the dinosaurs and giant squid we had seen at the museum on Monday.
Little Mister H and I went home. He napped and I took the opportunity to have my breakfast and write an ambitious to-do list.
And then the baby woke up.
I went to change his nappy and noticed that he was hot. The thermometer was once again put to use and it confirmed that Little Mister H had a fever. At four months old, it is his first.
The to-do list went out the window.
Today became one of those days.
It became one of those days where I don’t clean the bathroom.
I don’t hoover upstairs.
Appointments do not get made.
Laundry piles do not become smaller.
Dishes do not get washed.
Emails do not get sent.
Today has been one of those days where I have done the most important job in my world.
I have been Mummy.
I have held my baby boy as he has fought sleep. I have let him slumber in my arms. I have soothed him when he has been upset. I have stroked his head and held his hand.
I have savoured the day.
Because, this afternoon, as my boy lay on my chest and grabbed my hand tightly I realised something. I realised that these are the days that matter. These are the moments that I will treasure.
All the other stuff can wait.
Because today is one of those days when my children need me most. And I am their Mummy. The most important job in the world.