Dear Frankie,

I’d like to raise a toast to you, well not just a slice of toast, some muffins, pittas and pancakes too. 

I’d like to salute you with a baguette and a tiger loaf.  You are probably wondering where I’m going with this but stay with me, it’s worth me noting down this observation in our journals.

It’s your undying love of bread and butter and your wild imagination.

In this photo you are 7 and learning how to make your own breakfast. You had chosen a floury muffin and had sliced it into quarters. You were learning all about fractions at the time so I thought breakfast was the perfect opportunity to consolidate your equations. 

On this particular morning I remember you being reluctant to eat your breakfast which was so unlike you and you stood staring at your plate for a few minutes.  At first I thought you were waiting for the butter to soak in and contemplating turning your quarters into eighths but I soon realised other things were on your mind.

I knew how much you loved breakfast and bread in particular so what was the problem?

Do you remember?

I do, which is why I took the photo at the time as to jog your memory one day.

You not only managed to toast, butter and slice your own muffin for breakfast that morning, you noticed that you had made a butterfly.

‘I can’t eat this Mum.’ You said, ‘It’s too beautiful.’

In that moment, you reminded me about perspective. Your imagination is a powerful thing when you’re 7 and it’s a prime time to stop and notice the magic in the simplest of things.

I was thinking practically, I was thinking the muffin was a meal to fuel you and a quick improvised maths lesson. You were developing your hand eye coordination using a sharp knife for the first time and increasing your skills of independence.  

You were deciding whether or not it was ethical to now chop up and eat a beautiful butterfly.

I could have told you to stop being silly, to hurry up and eat your breakfast otherwise you’ll be late for school.

Instead, I told you how clever and insightful you were and how you’d inspired me to turn my ordinary toasted muffin into a magnificent butterfly too.

‘Let’s take our butterflies with us on the walk to school.’ I suggested.

‘That way they’ll have a chance to fly first before they settle inside our tummies.’

You thought this was a great idea and I can still remember the smile on your face as I dusted the last few muffin crumbs off your coat when we arrived at the school gates.

You knew the muffins were made of bread and not real butterflies but the way in which we communicated, compromised and found common ground that day brought a smile to my face too that morning.  

As I walked home alone dusting muffin crumbs off my own coat, I reflected and realised that there’s no need for me to rush and push so much, eager to fulfil my morning Mum duties, it’s ok to slow down, live in the moment and parent more delicately.

As delicately as a beautiful butterfly, thank you Frankie.

Forever yours,

Mum x

04/042023