I won't mention the ritual that begins each morning with the roosters wake up call somewhere between 5.30 and 6 (the rooster that is my son, that is. What is he thinking as he peeps out his window to see if it is morning time and it is still DARK!!).
I'm also not going to mention the morning rituals that take place over the breakfast table (the only fuss free meal of that day where everyone eats everything in front of them).
Or the chaotic ritual that involves us bundling out the door to get somewhere on time (three people dressed, bags packed, teeth cleaned, no put down that car, that teddy, that phone and sit on the steps and get your shoes on!).
I won't mention the big sigh of relief as I reverse out the driveway and wonder how I managed to get the 15 jobs done and three people ready, in under an hour.
What I want to remember is the ritual that involves my little Missy each morning. That sleepy morning feed as she slowly wakes up to the world. Those warm snuggles, that quiet, before the Rooster discovers that we are awake and disturbs our peace and solitude with his kisses and cuddles and his bouncing and bustle. That time when she hums songs to herself and plays out the actions with her little hands. Where she pokes all the tiny folds of my shirt and prods at my face. Where she plays with both our hair (I wonder if she has discovered that our hair has an identical texture as she strokes and pats and flicks).
I don't mind this ritual, this moment in time, because it will pass and I may never have it again.
More rituals here. Thanks to Angie at 3 Red Buttons for this weeks Eyespy theme.