Our year of Friday mornings is over, and I’m trying to be a grown-up about it, but you’re holding up better than I am. You love our routine almost as much as I do; we drop your big sister to school, then we wander slowly back, you holding onto the buggy, skipping along beside me. Stopping to stand on a rock or pick a leaf or look at a snail, and for once, nobody tells you to hurry up. We’re not in a rush, it’s our mellow Friday morning.
“Where will we go?” I ask you. And your answer is always the same: “The Mellow Fig!” And on hearing the magic words, your little brother pipes up: “Me have foffee and pancakes!” Earlier in the year, I laid down the law, and announced that we wouldn’t go every week. But as time went by, I realised that we had finite number of Friday mornings left before Summer holidays, and then you will join your big sister in primary school. So The Mellow Fig it is, every Friday morning.
You hold the door for me as I navigate through with the buggy, and we’re shown to your favourite table. The staff know us, and they know our order. “Pancakes all round?” they ask, to be greeted with a chorus in the affirmative. “And the cappuccinos are already on,” they tell us; as used to the routine as we are. The coffees arrive – frothy milk with marshmallows for you and your brother; proper stuff for me, then the pancakes and my homemade scone. You cut yours into dainty pieces, then bat away the toddler hands that come searching, once he’s inhaled his own and drank his little jug of maple syrup.
When every pancake bite is gone, it’s time for shopping. Sometimes it’s just groceries, but you take your job very seriously. “What should we have for lunch today?” I ask. And your brow furrows for a moment while you have a serious think about it. “I know – the rice and the steak thing in the sauce?” you say. “Great idea! Or how about chicken sandwiches?” I say. “Mmm I love chicken sandwiches!” you reply, and I narrowly avoid cooking pork stroganoff for lunch.
You insist on putting every item in the basket – if I absent-mindedly do it, you make me take it out, and at the till, you take charge of putting everything on the belt. “What a great little helper you have there,” is the comment every week – different people each time, but the same remark. “Isn’t she,” I reply, “I don’t know what I’ll do when she goes to school in September – I’ll have nobody to help me.” And you grin up at me, delighted to be so indispensable.
Then if we’re not rushing, we look at clothes – you hold dresses against me, to see if they suit. You tell me to try them on, then step back to critically appraise, hand on hip, finger on lip. Sometimes I get an “I’m not sure about that one mum” and sometimes I get “Buy it mum” and one time I got “Wow, that’s magnificent.” Everyone needs a personal shopper like you.
“What am I going to do when you to go school in September?” I ask you. “You’ll be OK mum,” you say reassuringly. I smile back, being brave, but actually, I’m not sure I will be.
14 thoughts on “A mellow year over”
She sounds adorable and now I’ve got a craving for pancakes and maple syrup. Good luck when September comes around.
I think someone already made the suggestion that when you’re home, we run an interview session or some such in the Mellow Fig over coffee and pancakes 🙂
Now my eyes are filled with tears… must have been the onions for dinner 😉 My little man is running off to big school in September too and it sounds like we both have two little ones more than ready for the leap… unlike their Moms!
Naomi Lavelle recently posted…Spark any child’s imagination with this great “Fairy Door” GIVEAWAY
So true – they are so ready and that’s very reassuring. We will have to keep each other company across the internet in September Naomi 🙂
She sounds great-I wouldn’t know what to do without her either!Time goes so bloody fast when it comes to kids!
Aedín recently posted…Mini graduate
I think it’s the time of year for thinking about all these passing milestones isn’t it – they’re all finishing pre-school or junior infants and we’re desperately trying to keep them small!
Lovely piece. Finite number of Fridays is right
And she’s not even my last baby – what am I going to do when he goes to school! Thanks Jen
Ah, what a dote.
Apparently, what I should have done was have a third, to bring out the responsible helper in my wayward 5yo.
Maud recently posted…Pandora’s Potter
I am totally sure that’s what would have happened Maud, totally 🙂
Awww you’ve made me tear up a bit, myself and Ella love going for our coffee and babycinnos but our favourite coffee shop closed on Saturday! She will be in playschool 5 days from September so our little mornings will be gone too, going to miss them 🙁
Sara recently posted…When I turned 21
Lovely post. I can’t yet imagine how I’ll be when my first goes to primary but I’m there with you reading that.
Laura recently posted…Russborough House for families
Such a lovely little (big!) girl 🙂 It must be so weird, I will have that ahead of me next year and it feels surreal even though it’s a year away still…
Mirva recently posted…Rain, Rain, Go Away… What to do on a rainy day? Play Cafe Review
Yes I think every milestone for each child at every age is a big deal – and they get bigger as we move towards the final child experiencing each of them!
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