Precious moments on a ticking clock

"Make time for fun and silliness". I must have read that about 20 times. Apparently a necessity if you aspire to be a successful partner, parent, team leader and probably circus clown.

So today that cliché rang in my ears when faced with a particular 'unbalanced experience'.

Our morning routine requires precision timing. No matter how organised I try to be there are just so many activities to cram into a short space of time. And our differing personality types add to the challenge: I take some time to warm up in the morning, like an old car in winter, you need to let me tick over for a while before I can even leave first gear. My little boy however wakes up ready to run down the nearest motorway. No car required. As soon as he opens his eyes his brain must say, no actually sing, "It's morning... Woohoo!"

Fun and silliness are always on his agenda. Of course they are. But my morning routine is ruled by the large ticking clock on our kitchen wall. If we don't get to school on time the car park will be full. And if the car park is full I will have to park round the corner. And if I have to park round the corner it takes longer to walk back to it (in heels) so I won't catch my 'only-make-it-if-I-leg-it-down-the-platform' train.

He was in full-on Woohoo-mode when we went downstairs to make breakfast, yabbering on about something or other. I knew I should be listening, but I needed to make breakfast and.... Tick Tock Tick Tock.

To get his attention, I picked him up sat him on the kitchen worktop. "I have a question for you..." Now this works. He's at eye level and he loves to be asked a question. And he half knows that the question will be, 'what shall we have for breakfast?'. It's a regular morning question because another aspirational quote locked somewhere in my memory, is to offer children choices so they learn independent thinking. Blah blah blah.

But instead, my inner silliness crept in. "Do you looove me?" I sang to him. I've recently watched Dirty Dancing and it popped into my head. Big grin from the boy and my silliness took over.

"I can mash potato..." I proved it.
"Do the twist...." Hell yeah.
"Tell me baby..." He loved it.

The clock was silenced. I was Supermum. We danced together. He looked me right in the eye and did that beautiful giggle that kids do when they are truly happy. I felt amazing and we had a precious moment - one of those that makes your heart burst, where you know there is true love in the room. The cliché was right, I SHOULD make time for silliness.

Time. Make time. Tick Tock..... "Oh my god, look at the time!" And there it was, ruined.

"Quickly... Just eat it... Are you finished?... Well where did you leave it?... Come on!... They are not MY shoes, they are your responsibility... For goodness sake, just get in the car... Now!"

Next time I decide to make time for fun and silliness I will schedule it with precision timing.