September has this cheeky way of pretending it's still summer while quietly packing everyone off to school, nursery, and a calendar that looks like it was designed by a villain.
This week has been equal parts toast crumbs, podcast tabs, and me shouting "shoes on" like it's my full-time profession.
Honestly? Peak mum mode. Peak me.
It started, as most of my weeks do, with a morning that looked calm on paper and chaotic in person.
One child negotiating cereal brands like a tiny lawyer. Indie deciding that socks are optional and opinions are mandatory. Me somehow already late while still standing in the kitchen holding a half-drunk coffee that has gone cold twice.
John appeared briefly, did that helpful dad thing of finding the missing shoe in the one place I swear I already looked, then vanished into his own day looking suspiciously more put-together than me.
Rude.
The school-and-nursery run this week has been… athletic.
Not in a gym way. In a "park, unbuckle, bag, water bottle, kiss, wave, reverse out of a car park like you're in a heist film" way.
There is a very specific Essex September sunshine that makes everything look softer than it feels.
Golden light on the dash. Kids singing something unhinged in the back. Me pretending I'm serene while mentally listing everything I forgot to pack.
I love it. I also need a nap by 9:15am.
Tuesday was Toddler Tuesday energy, and if you know, you know.
We ended up at Sanctuary Play Cafe and oh my days — sticky hands, soft play, the kind of noise that resets your nervous system and destroys it at the same time.
Indie went in like she owned the place. I went in clutching a coffee like it was a life raft.
There is something magic about watching your child completely lose themselves in play while you sit three feet away pretending you're not calculating how many wet wipes you've already used.
She left buzzing. I left covered in someone else's snack crumbs and weirdly proud of myself for leaving the house before lunch.
Wins look different these days.
Midweek was podcast land. Properly.
Mum Life edits. Re-listening. Changing a thumbnail. Changing it back. Writing captions. Deleting captions. Writing better captions that somehow end up longer.
People hear a finished episode and think "oh lovely, a chat."
What they don't see is me in joggers, hair in a claw clip that is doing more emotional labour than I am, muttering "why did I say like so many times" at a waveform.
We've also been in that exciting post-filming haze — the bit where a conversation with someone like Chelsea is still buzzing in your head days later, and you're trying to shape it into something that feels as real on headphones as it did in the room.
Those are my favourite kind of episodes.
The ones that don't pretend motherhood is tidy.
There were also the little domestic victories that nobody puts on a highlight reel.
A load of washing that actually got hung up the same day. A dinner that wasn't beige. Ten quiet minutes in the garden with a tea while the kids played and I pretended the to-do list didn't exist.
John wandered out at one point, looked at the sky like he was personally responsible for the weather, and said something optimistic about "holding onto the last of the summer."
I nodded. Then went inside and found glitter in a place glitter should never be.
Balance.
By the weekend I was ready for something that wasn't a school bag or a laptop charger.
A bit of Essex life. A proper coffee that stayed hot long enough to taste. Catching up with a mate who understands that "I'm fine" sometimes means "I have seventeen browser tabs open and one child attached to my leg."
We laughed. We talked too loud. We covered children, work, sleep (lack of), and whether anyone actually knows what day it is anymore.
Consensus: no.
So that was my week.
School-run cardio. Play-café chaos. Mum Life edits. Cold coffee. Warm sunshine. A partner who finds the shoe. Kids who find the glitter. Me somewhere in the middle, holding it together with mascara and mild delusion.
And I wouldn't swap it.
Because this is the good stuff, even when it's sticky and loud and slightly late.
Here's to September chaos, claw clips, and pretending summer isn't clocking off just yet. ☀️🤍