It’s been a busy week or two in the Fox household. I booked an intensive swimming course for Squidge, having abandoned the stresses of the local leisure centre a few weeks ago. We bussed to the local leisure park 4 miles away every morning.

We had to be there for 10:30 and learnt after arriving almost an hour early on the first morning that the girls could spend their early mornings on the playground and I could sit and be soothed by the sound and view of the sea as I supervised. It became a great routine. Gabby would gabble requests on the bus “Please, I play I Spy?” It was fun. And my Squidge, in just those five mornings did so well with her swimming, with two instructors in the pool with her little group of 3. By day 3, she was swimming underwater… the girl who wouldn’t put her face or ears in the water.

This weekend, Kev ran his first half marathon. He has been training all year, even amongst his own health issues. His time was incredible. The hotel we stayed at was lovely, a big old castle. The uneven floors and many stairs were out to get me though so it felt. I had spent all day Friday after swimming packing and the journey there in our hire car was uncomfortable. The suite was lovely & the girls bedded down gleefully together on the sofa bed.

I went to bed early, knowing we’d be up at 5am to be at the marathon site in time. The bed was huge, warm and gloriously comfortable, but oh. My. God(!) I am not made for 5am starts. Neither are my girls strangely enough. Even Squidge, who is gladly up asking for her tablet at 6:30am declared it was too early. I remained exhausted. I took a sleeping Gabby back to the suite for a nap after she fell asleep on my lap after Sunday lunch, desperate to get back under the duvet myself. I slept for hours and was still in bed by 9pm, as were both girls.

Kev’s mum is a legend in this house and she offered to take the girls back to her house for a sleepover so that Kev & I could rest. The girls were thrilled.

It was only when we did get home that Kev & I realised that he was working late the next day so wouldn’t be able to cover me for my much needed weekly massage (a huge knot had been in my shoulder since Friday by now!) so I asked Kathy to watch the girls longer. She didn’t flinch.

That evening though, as I was in the bath post massage, still trying to heat the knot that my therapist had worked tirelessly on out of my shoulder, I got a call from Squidge.

Her voice was uncharacteristically small and sad. “I miss you.” she said.

I wished I could scoop her up. “Oh sweetheart, I miss you too.” I told her honestly, explaining again why I had asked for her to stay longer at Nanny’s again.

“I know. But I miss you. I can’t go to sleep.”

“Do you miss me, or home?” I asked.

“I miss my mummy & daddy. I haven’t seen you for 2 nights and that’s a long time.”

“It is. You are very brave you know. When Mummy was your age, I absolutely refused to be away from my mum. I will run and come and get you from Nanny’s tomorrow morning and I promise to bring you home.”

“Don’t think you should run Mummy. You might fall over.”

I laughed, my heart swelling with love and pride. I felt seen. “OK. Good advice, Immy Squidge. I won’t run. I’ll walk carefully. But I will come early. You’ve been away from your house and your things for a long time with Daddy’s marathon too.”

And she had. And this was the first time in her life she had been brave enough to tell me her feelings. I explained I couldn’t be on a video call because I was in the bath, but I was happy to stay on the phone. That’s what Squidge chose. I heard her chat to her Nanny. She didn’t need to be talking to me, she just wanted to know I was there.

We didn’t hang up until she felt ready to say goodnight. I realised just how mature my little girl felt able to be.

I then realised how this reflected on me, my parenting and I felt able to let my chest swell with pride. I had taught this little girl to reach out when she needed me, even if I felt far away. I had taught her it was always right to tell me what she was feeling, in any way she felt able. And she had.

She just wanted to be at home. I understood that all too well. So today, she’s home, doing a lot of nothing. And that’s just perfect, because she’s home. She is home to me.