I love Sunday mornings. I don’t know what it is about Sundays… It’s not like we’re living a traditional lifestyle right now, neither The Husband nor I have a regular work week, so we don’t particularly dread Mondays nor do we spend all week looking forward to Fridays. We’ve got it pretty good every day now. But Sunday, well, it’s 10.30am and I’m still in my pjs with no guilt. We had pancakes for breakfast, technically I could make pancakes any day, but I only crave them on Sunday. But the absolutely best, most fantastic feeling in the world, is Sunday morning, with both kids in our bed crawling all over us and each other and we don’t really mind that it’s 8am and what the hell are we all doing awake at this hour? And they’re sooo happy to see each other, The Boy woke up first, and he spent half an hour asking when The Girl was going to be up, can we wake her up please, is she up yet… you get the picture, and then when she finally did wake up he ran in her room, squealing and they spent ten minutes hugging and smiling at each other. And that’s when you know, with absolute certainty, that having kids is the most wonderful thing in the world.
That’s really all I wanted to say, and a Happy Sunday to all!
(As I’m writing this, The Boy is walking around the house banging himself on the head with his lego box cover and yelling “boing, boing, bang!” over and over again… and my heart sings.)