The clock says 6:20am. The house is quiet. I'm the only one awake. Before I was married when I was single I would have thought 6:20am was the middle of the night. I would wrestle with the alarm clock for just another ten minutes more before running into the bathroom and dashing for the train each morning always a little late.
Now I enjoy the early mornings. Of course, I now wake up to Californian sunshine rather than a London chill, so getting out of bed is easier.
Today I make Joshua's lunch. Today is one of the last days I'll be preparing cream cheese bagel, yogurt, bananas and grapes for him. From next Monday he will start his new school. I pack the last things away. Over the breakfast bar I see a tiger costume folded over a chair waiting for a fix under the chin and crutch (why do they never make those things long enough in the body). A variety of arts and crafts stuff clutters the table. Some of it is Joshua's some of it is mine - we've been making Halloween party invitations all weekend.
A giant Halloween glow in the dark spider sits on top of Joshua's artwork. Right now it's being used as a paper weight but I'm sure it will still be on the table long after the artwork has been put away and Halloween is over. Last year we had a skeleton head with flashing eyes that stayed on our table well past Christmas and into the new year.
When I was single the clutter was all clothes, make-up and magazines. Today's clutter of dinosaurs, and Matchbox cars reminds me that there is a little boy in the house - as if I could forget - as if I would want to forget. I want my house to stay like this always - a cluttered magical mess waiting for a little boy to wake up and come and play...