Yesterday, I was feeling a bit off kilter. We woke up, thrown from sleep into parenting life rather abruptly. Parents out there will know the feeling, when you’re lying in bed, listening to the dulcet tones of scrapping children and wondering how close they are to clawing each others eyes out. Eventually my husband decided that intervention was decidedly necessary and got out of bed to referee and break up the brawl.

I chose a slightly less noisy path and started getting stuck into the household chores to get the day underway. Hubby and I had full days ahead, and fell into routine without needing to communicate. I took Otis (beloved border collie) to the vet and then went on to visit my parents, while Nathan was off to get the kids to sports and go buy some household stuff we needed (he’s aiming to get our lawn better than a bowling green so there’s quite the chemistry happening).

What should have started as a lazy, savour the moment kind of morning had turned into a rushed, task focussed, sprint to sundown.

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