Sunday, October 24, 2010
Normally one to take the bull by the horns, to tackle things head on (ouch), I reckon I’m letting this last week sail right by, right through to the keeper. I’m sweeping under the carpet, I’m hands over ears singing my la la la la la la la’s, I’m ostrich with head lodged firmly in the sand. Who would have thunk that being an adult, acting like an adult, could, after all this practising, still be oh, so tricky.
It wasn’t even a dodgy week because the Mr has been nose to the grindstone in Canberra, (finally) installing his artworks. If the truth be told, the sole parenting bit has been fairly cruisey. We have all quietly noted that his absence has meant:
1. the Ten Minute Tidy takes nine minutes (?!?)
2. the dishwasher is but half full at days end
3. Dad consumes a lot of milk. What with our regular delivery, we’re on milkshake diets for the foreseeable.
Regardless of all that, honey, it’d be lovely to have you home.
There were other bright sparks of goodness piercing through the undertones of blah. Friends arrived home from a holiday that took forever, there was hanging out with a five week old, movie night with the kids, the last weekend spent with dear buddies who I am old enough to have known for TWENTY EIGHT YEARS (when did that happen?). Not only that, two packages of Just Because arrived in my letterbox. I am amazed how much a Just Because warms the cockles...
Mel, you made me all trembly lower lip (in a lovely way) with your Purl Soho treats and card:
Susie, you made me laugh.
Mostly at your faith in me and gardening.
Neither of you girls could possibly quite ‘get’ how perfectly timed and gratefully received were your words and packages of sheer delight.
Finally, if you happened to be wondering about that image right at the top, it’s one that prompted another smile at the corners of the mouth this week. It’s part of the Middle’s expansive toilet roll collection. Every now and then, I venture in to his room (while he’s safely at school) to do something more than a cursory seven year old tidy. Whenever I do this, afterwards he comes to thank me profusely for not throwing out his toilet roll collection.
Kid, I wouldn’t dream of throwing out your toilet roll collection.