Sometimes I moan. Sometimes I fret about the little things. George hasn’t eaten his lunch and Harri has posted all of her hair clips down the toilet. Sometimes I get caught up in the rush between, milk, breakfast, nursery, work, home, tea, washing, bathing, dinner, wine. Sometimes I lose track of where the days go..
And then, I notice the little things.
A row of wellies epitomises family life to me. I can remember so vividly pulling on my wellies after a second failed IVF attempt. Getting ready to go for a stomp outside to yet again try to blow away the gnawing sadness. I remember sitting on the bottom step and the realisation that I’d never see a row of wellies in our house. That moment, that silly little, insignificant family moment I would never have left my heart with a renewed ache.
Then today, there was a row of wellies (and some grateful tears of happiness).