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The last few weeks have not been the best health-wise.

I’ve been wracked with a confusing pain and fatigue in every joint, leaving me unable to complete the most basic of tasks – let alone care for my daughter in the way that I am used to.

I’ve been filled with panic and have spent hours catastrophising about our mother/daughter bond falling apart or disintegrating before my very eyes… 

My husband urged me not to worry. 

He Reassured me that our mother/daughter relationship was strong enough and that he could step up until I was back on my feet.

“How will that work?” I thought, dismissing the idea.

But.. he took her to school.

He took her to swimming.

He took her iceskating.

He did her homework. 

he cooked her tea.

he made her breakfast.

He read her stories and he put her to bed.

Initially I was crestfallen… then I realised something wonderful was happening.

Their relationship was blooming!

As I sat around the house aching and worrying about the future, panic stricken about possible outcomes, I’d suddenly be distracted by the sound of her tinkling laugh from the bathroom. I’d go up to find them in the bath surrounded by dolls, engrossed in a game involving voices and characters I’d never heard before.. 

“Hello. What are you doing?” I’d enquire.

“Playing” would come her short response and I’d be dispatched back downstairs.

Other days they’d swing past me with her on his back, her feet thrust onto his hands always deep in conversation or mid laugh. – This particular manoeuvre had a special name but I couldn’t tell you what having never really been privy to it . 

“Pick me!” was a cry I got used to hearing around the house; along with the more bizarre “Nose me!” – an unusual greeting they developed. 

In short they became inseparable and it was a joy to hear them laughing up and down the stairs and around the house.

The moral of this mawkishly sentimental tale? 


Worth remembering, for all of us parents I think…

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