It seems as though I’d only just got used to the little tinkers being under foot again and before I knew it they were clambering aboard the school bus to be taken away for another day of learning.
Midway through their second year of education you’d think I might have gotten used to the idea of them not being tied to the apron strings, but alas, I’m as lost today without them as I was back in September last year when I handed them over to Ms Green for the first time.
The house is unnaturally quiet, their little giggles and screams of joy at throwing another Batman figure down the stairs are replaced by the rumble of the tumble dryer, it really doesn’t compare.
There’s no minefield of Lego to navigate to reach the other side of the living room floor, which makes the journey rather boring and much less exciting.
No one is asking me inane questions such as why girls don’t have a willy, loo breaks just aren’t the same.
And lunch time, a sadly lonely occasion without the need to cater to little tinker tots who decide half way through a meal that Marmite or cheese are no longer edible.
Crossing the road and reaching out to clasp little hands no longer in reach is a bitter sweet reminder that my babes are really growing up and in many ways, away from me.
I realise that in a few weeks Easter will be upon us and for a while they will be mine again, I won’t have to share them at all and most likely I’ll be dreaming of a little peace and quiet.
Will I ever be content?