Weekend mornings shouldn't have a routine. But mine do, well the best ones do. I get to wake up later than usual. I'm no longer greedy, anything after 8am is a treat. There is nothing to rush for. No school bell, no clock watching boss, I'm in no hurry to leave my bed.
If I'm lucky smudge, who is always first up, will join me for a bit. Sleepy good morning cuddles with a tatty haired, jammie clad girl, discussing our plans for the day is a perfect beginning.
She never stops long. She loves a lazy morning as much as I do. Relishing the opportunity to get the living room to herself to hog the remote and demonstrate just how grown up she is making her own breakfast.
When the call of the coffee pot gets too loud to ignore I'll leave my duvet nest and join the pyjama party in the living room. I'll drink my coffee and read or join in the square eyeing. There is little conversation, just a Mum and her girl waking up together. Both just a little sad when the dog is cross legged and begging to be walked. Going upstairs, getting dressed breaks the spell. Properly attired the day starts for real.