Our morning ritual is always the same – crazy. There’s me, nagging Nicholas to get out of bed, Gizmo wanting to play and grabbing my trouser leg, in an attempt to run upstairs so he can jump on Nicholas. Maybe I should let him? Nicholas might get out of bed.

Although….. I do admit to not noticing in the end as Gizmo bounds upstairs … call it the ‘final child wake-up call’. Me? I simply smile to myself, sip my coffee whilst sat at the kitchen table, listening to the thump of Gizmo jumping on and off the bed blended with the squeals and yells from Nicholas calling me for help.

Tilly sits watching me, ears twitching at the noise, and I can see in her eyes that all she wants is us to leave and for peace to be restored. But we share this meaningful exchange that says “Nah, another few minutes won’t hurt” I sip my coffee again.

Eventually heading upstairs I realise that the laughing and barking has probably woken the neighbours and the evil plan of Gizmo getting Nicholas out of bed has back fired.

Gizmo dragged off the bed and taken downstairs after protests from Nicholas, who wants him to stay whilst he gets dressed.

Then we are ready for the off

Check List:

Gizmo is on lead

All bags packed and ready to go

Car keys in hand

Then comes the realisation Nicholas is NOT wearing his shoes or his coat, and stands at the top of the stairs. He wants to take another toy to Nannies that he cannot find. Dread sets in as I realise it will probably end in tears.

So bags down. Gizmo walking around with his lead in his mouth and acting like a manic dog as I hurry two steps at a time upstairs to find the toy that can never be found. Just once I would love to walk out of the house with everybody happy, without the ‘count to 5’ scenario or tantrums. To experience simplicity would be amazing. But no, I am silently swearing over a lost toy.

The bedroom looks like a bomb has hit it in such a short space of time. How? How can one child make such a mess so quickly? Eventually another toy is in hand after much persuasion that this toy is as good as the lost one, the bedroom door is shut and the toy forgotten about until the evening.

One hour later, shoes and coats on, running around to catch Gizmo, who has reached the plateau of hyperactivity and believes we are playing, we are finally out of the front door.

Before closing the front door, I catch a sign of Tilly and with envy in my eyes, I watch as she snuggles down, obviously please that peace has arrived for her.

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