Our first ever 'back to school'

Back to school today for my currently angelic 4YO Esme Grace, bringing with it the first morning of 'hurry-up's' in a week. Sad face.

Esme has been the only one in our house to remain cold free all half term holiday and so naturally of course she appears this morning complete with green train tracks of snot and a single red puffy eye that looks suspiciously like some sort of 'itis' on its way in. Typically, the school photos are being taken today as well.

She chomps her way merrily through breakfast until I ask her what she'd like in her sandwich for packed lunch. At that point the fact that she's returning to school hits. "I don't want to go Mummy. I want to stay home and play with you," came the quiet response. Ah, my little just-four-year-old. I want her to stay too.

I jolly her along with the school photo opportunity and she seems quite agreeable to going again. And with that the race begins to get there on time. I realise she needs her PE kit and scramble its ensemble before looking for her 'bookbag' which has remained unopen all week. I find it stashed below the pile of hats and gloves that have accrued since trick or treating and the fireworks party. (Both brilliant occasions that reminded me that it is fun to be a parent of a 4YO).

Upstairs I'm quite impressed that I manage to wash my hair as well as shower without having Sofia Faith push her way in with me. The upshot of this is that when I get out the shower, the bathroom looks like an advert for Andrex. And at the other end of all that paper is my fourteen-month-old taking chunks out of what's left of the roll. She is an animal.

We move on from teeth to hair and Esme looks perfectly cute with her 'only got time for a pony tail' style. It lasts moments, for Fia tugs at it and half hangs out the band. I decide sod it, let's go for bunches after all and risk tardiness. All done I stand back to see how pretty she looks for said picture soon to be taken and just as I'm admiring her gorgeousness and my handiwork, she lets go a tremendous sneeze, showering both of us in snot. 

Half an hour later my girls are sat opposite the photographer who is doing his best to make Fia stop looking so gormless. He tries so hard that Esme winds up grinning like a flippin Cheshire cat. Fia though, still sits staring at him like he is some sort of buffoon. Brilliant. Can't wait to see the proof when it's in.