You are everything….

I had a bad day at work – nothing out of the ordinary, just one of those days when nothing seems to go quite right. I hadn’t done enough, provided enough, accomplished enough. You know the type. If you’re a teacher, you probably know the type better than most, because teaching is one of those jobs where nothing is ever enough. There is always more you could do – always another child you could have seen, another bit of patience you could have held onto, another book you could have marked. It was a day where everything seemed a tiny bit darker than before, and I looked forward to tomorrow and its shining clean newness – where everything could be better. 
I got home late, and the kids were already in bed. They were both reading, and I went upstairs to say goodnight, and had a long, involved conversation with child 2 about art club and an even longer, more involved conversation with child 1 about some new programme he and his dad had found at bedtime. Neither conversation was in the slightest bit interesting and I was mostly desperate to get downstairs and mark the rest of my books and then torture myself with some guilt over having not seen my children all day and really, really not finding them very interesting when I did see them.  I thought when I spent most of my time at work I would treasure my time with the children more, but some days, it turns out, I treasure it less, because work is exhausting and never ending, and small children can be really a bit tedious. And I really like bed, and when you still have two hours of work to do when you get downstairs, bedtime seems a very long time away. 
I was back at the kitchen table, marking, when there was a set of little footsteps in the hallway, followed by another. ‘I just wanted to come and see you, Mummy,’ said child 2, putting her arms around me. ‘I just wanted to come and give you a cuddle, Mummy,’ said the usually much less demonstrative child 1, leaning his cheek against mine. ‘We missed you,’ added child 2, kissing my forehead in exactly the same way I kiss hers, absent mindedly, habitually, full of love. 
We sit at the kitchen table, we three, one on my lap, the other leaning into me, one little hand in mine, another stroking my arm, surrounded by silky hair and the bloom of soft skin, their breaths a whisper against my neck. The day, so full of things undone and petty disappointments and those minor, trivial things that mattered so much hours earlier, drifts into nothing. Here, in these minutes, the rest of the world fades away, dispersing on the night air like a murmur in the dark.  There is nothing that means anything at all beside this – these beings which are the closest to perfection that I will ever know, these seconds of clear, undiluted wonder – this moment, this joy, this love. 


6 thoughts on “You are everything….

  1. All your first novel has to be are your blogs and this one is stunnung – am holding back the tears xxx


  2. Ah Rebecca another eloquent extract of a day in your busy life. We’ve all been there and it’s moments like this you will treasure. It doesn’t matter how tired and disgruntled you feel, expressions of love from your children mean the world.


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