The nearly 5 year old has been calling me 'Mum' today. As his baby sister masters 'Mama' through triumphant repetition, her older brother is casually dropping the 'my' at the end of my name.
I'm a little put out. Mum smiles and waves from the future - neater hair, a calmer smile and a tidy house. Less tired around the eyes, and better makeup - more carefully applied. She looks at photo snaps of now and smiles at the babe in arms and the funny, skinny Primary One. She misses her unruly hair, when not a moment in the day spared itself to find a brush. She sleeps better now, has time to read a book. She drinks less wine and more tea and talks to her husband of when their family were young. She waits ahead with a patient smile and glances at her watch for I am running late.
But she can wait a little more. Mummy tomorrow please - who holds a hand, irons nothing and has a permanent want for an extra hour in her day... x