One of the joys of parenthood is the extra hours in the day it gives you. Especially at weekends. Forget lying in to catch up on an ever accruing sleep deficit, feeling rested is now a thing of the past.
A few weeks ago, we were all up and dressed by 6.30am on Saturday morning. Having some extra bounce that morning, I set about making a breakfast fit for a king. I told James we were having a party. He walked around the flat saying, 'party', 'party', 'party', as the excitement mounted. He then got a bit confused and suddenly it was 'pate', 'pate', 'pate'... but as he actually loves pate, that wasn't a problem.
This morning I asked him whether he wanted weetabix or toast for breakfast. 'Party', came the reply!
Perhaps there is some wisdom in this: whether it's a blisteringly early Saturday morning or a random moment in the week, life can be a party. Well, if not a party exactly, a little of the joy and excitement that a party brings, a little of that sense of giving thanks, of honouring a moment, of celebrating the most mundane happenings can undoubtedly bring more fizz to life.
Why else are children the happiest people on the planet?
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