Those joyful moments.

I woke this morning, (Wednesday that is, posting this in the wee hours because tonight, of course, I can't sleep), feeling rather tired and washed out.  Rye was very restless last night, constantly sitting up and trying to pull me over so he could snuggle in my arms.  In the end I had to leave the bedroom and sleep in his room because even in his sleep he was constantly pushing and pulling at me, sitting up in bed and then laying on my back, then moving etc.  Very frustrating, and I could feel myself becoming more and more annoyed - particularly as I now have to be up fairly early in the morning because of the childminding.

There was an unexpected benefit to Rye's nighttime restlessness; he slept in till 10am, so I was able to spend some one on one time with my charge.  She's settled well and clearly enjoys coming to the setting.  I receive big smiles each morning, when her mum drops her off, and my charge is keen to get inside and play.

Then later on in the afternoon, while my charge was having her nap, Rye asked to go out into the garden to play.  I guess because its been snowing all day - only lightly, the odd flutter of a flake, but enough to get a 3yr old's hopes up for snowman making.  Sadly the snow left from New Years Day has turned to ice, so no snowmaking today.  Still, Rye had a grand time playing with his dumper truck and the space hopper:

 

 

And it was lovely to spend  a part of the day just concentrating on being present with him, laughing with him when he fell of the space hopper, chatting about the possibility of making a snow man etc.  I also had time to do a little baking and made a lovely loaf of wholemeal bread, pizza bases for the freezer, and a thrown together fruit flapjack made with honey and agarve syrup rather than golden syrup.  Really nice, although prehaps used a bit too much honey and argarve syrup because the flapjack breaks up very easily.  The kids didn't mind though.

Later still, my heart nearly burst with pride as I watched Rye rub my charge's leg after she'd fallen over the train track they were playing with, and ask her if she was "ok?" and give her a hug.  Then while she was sat in the highchair munching on fruit flapjack, while I put together our tea of leek and potatoe soup with fresh homemade bread, still warm from the oven; I heard Rye singing "Round and Round the Garden", to her and performing the accompanying actions.  My charge was giggling her head off and I stood, unobserved, in the kitchen doorway just watching and smiling.

He changed the words slightly though, and sang:

"Round and round the garden goes the Polar Bear, one step, two step, tickle you there!"

Tis moments like that, which really slice through the difficult and challenging times, (and occasional sleep deprivation), to remind me that motherhood is marvelous blessing.  He's not "mine", he simply is, a small person sharing my living space, and together we are journeying, loving and making a lifetime of precious memories.