So this is 41

comic-girl-sleeping-bed-pop-art-illustration-78832051Life as a working mother can be so glamorous! And today, my birthday, has so far been no exception. It began at 5.30am when my youngest daughter (who was, as usual, sleeping in my bed) urgently announced she needed a wee.

Go on then, I grunted. But she couldn’t get the door open, and then the cat started attacking her feet (does anyone else’s cats do this?) and by the time she got back to bed she was wide awake and plotting.

“Mummy, it’s your birthday! We’re going to make you breakfast in bed!”

I begged her not to. I pleaded. “Please just go back to sleep. That’s all I want. Mummy is very old now and needs her sleep.”

We cuddled and I dozed, and while I wasn’t paying attention she’d managed to go and wake her sister up.

The next thing I knew there was lots of banging and clattering coming from downstairs. All the lights were on – including the very bright one on the landing. Sleep was clearly not going to be an option.

Meanwhile, having left the puppy gate open downstairs, there was now an exuberant and hungry cockapoo bounding around the bedrooms. Turns out he also had a full bladder.

The next couple of hours were a blur of cleaning up puppy wee, eating soggy cereal in bed and drinking black tea (the rest of the milk having been sloshed around the kitchen). Exhausted from their early start and busy birthday endeavours, my children had resumed doing what they do best, fighting with one another.

Somehow we made it to school and I kissed them goodbye, responding to half a dozen work emails as I walked home with the dogs. I realised I hadn’t brushed my hair and that my socks were pulled over my trousers.

Walking through the back door I was faced with the catastrophe that was my kitchen.

I went to make a cuppa before heading to my desk. Remembered there was no milk and opened the packet of gin-infused sweets my big sister had sent me instead.

Would I change any of it? No, I wouldn’t change a thing!

41 may be a bit of a slog, but those sweet cuddles, the look of anticipation on my daughters’ faces as I opened their gift and as they presented me with my breakfast are too precious for words.

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