French Toast Mornings

When we become mummies, we quickly learn to think of everybody else first, to prioritise others’ needs and feelings, and to take control of the little things that need doing, whether laundry, day-to-day chores, or cooking. We become the carers in the family unit, and that is something that is a sudden and dramatic change that doesn’t seem to want to revert at any point. We reason that you can’t unscramble an egg, that this is how it will always be now; we will always be the hugger rather than the hugged.

But, actually, change does come, and all that goes up must come down.

As the process is slow and gradual, in contrast to when it first hits, the minor changes are subtle, and they slip by without much notice; it might be your child making their own bed or preparing their own breakfast. But then bigger ones come, and soon the role of carer becomes less pronounced.

I could focus on the downsides of this (‘My baby’s growing up far too quickly!’) but ultimately I love nothing more than watching my daughters grow and become little women. I am so excited for their futures—for their firsts—that I never really give much attention to the past, to how I miss their chubby baby cheeks, etcetera. I embrace who they are now and look forward to who they’ll become.

But I digress. All of this is said in mind of one point: my eldest little lady is now just that, a young lady, and she is already so fiercely independent that she all too readily and happily adopts the role of looking after her mother. Yesterday morning is one of the sweetest (pun intended!) examples of how she is learning to tackle new things and develop new skills, and I can’t help but enjoy it.

After taking the youngest little miss to preschool, I nipped to the supermarket for bread and a couple of mochas for Faye and I, and then headed home, where I was met, at 07:30, with the scent of French toast cooking. In the kitchen, my gorgeous daughter had already served up the first of two batches; two slices with banana, awaiting warmed syrup. It was heavenly. And so appreciated. These are the things we mummies end up really valuing: being cooked for, being looked after for just a little while. It’s such a nice thing to do for someone.

It’s the little things. And I feel so lucky.

It’s strange when I think back to yesterday morning and how much it set the tone for the rest of the day, as my next post will detail. As I said just a day or two ago, it’s amazing how much change can come in the space of a day.


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