It was 5.20am this morning and my darling husband was in a hurry to get ready to go to Sydney for an early meeting. I whispered, please be quiet and DON’T WAKE THE BABY. Next thing I know he’s running down the stairs. RUNNING down our very creeky, noisy wood stairs. 3, 2, 1. WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH. Great. Just farking great.
I figured I would just feed Soph and she’d go back to sleep. No such luck. She cried. Burped. Cried. Snuggled. Cried. Fed. Burped. Screamed the house down. Snuggled. Burped. Then finally went back to her cot.
As I crawled back into bed at 6.25am I started thinking about Japan. About the millions of people without food, without water, without shelter, scared, extremely frightened, and grieving. Grieving for lost loved ones, for their lost homes, their town, their country. As the clock ticked over to 6.30am and Sophie let out another cry, I sat up, not cranky that she was still awake, not upset that I was tired, but grateful that I had a bed to get out of. Grateful that my family were safe. So I let out a big sigh and went and bundled up my precious little pudding and gave her a great big hug.
When you’re tired, and things don’t always go to plan it’s easy to lose sight of the big picture. So I’m going to take that extra deep breath, and let out a big sigh, because life really ain’t that bad.