A mother's children are portraits of herself

This morning before the city awoke fully the artist did not have to pull her son towards her after he crept into her bed a good half an hour before she knew she would be getting up. This morning the artist did not have to get the two cereal bowls filled with the right cereal for the children to eat, or leave them watching TV on the bright red sofa while she quickly tidied their room. This morning she did not have to squeeze the toothpaste onto the toothbrushes, or find the right top, right trousers, right shoes. She did not have to unbolt the back door for them to race into the garden, or push them on the swing, or play a game with them, or quell a minor disturbance. This lunchtime there was no lunch she had to prepare for them and no long walk to share with them to the park later with the bicycles or with the scooters. This afternoon she did not have to feel guilty because she was probably working too hard on her own work at the cost of spending some quality time with the children. She did not have to worry about changing a pair of socks because the other pair had got wet. She did not have to lay out the drawing books on the table and select an image for them to draw. She did not have to worry about her daughter watching episode after episode of her favourite TV series. She did not have to be concerned about her 4 year old spending too long on the computer. This evening she did not have to worry about them not eating enough greens and she was not made anxious by the idea they were probably staying up too late. No, today, as the children were away, the artist simply worked.