Saturday, 22 January 2011

Mess

I want to write a swirly, beautiful post but I can't because I keep getting interrupted having to stick panty liners on a two-year olds arm.


"I NEED A BAND-ACHE MUMMY! MY ARM GOT A OWIE!" I almost refused, but that would mean an intense ten-minute tantrum time-out situation. So he's happily walking around the house, with Max too scared to ask me what it actually IS. Because he knows I'll answer him honestly.

So when Dave and Tim arrive home shortly, they'll look at me in disgust, like there's something wrong with me, but in fact, sometimes it's just good parenting to stick a panty liner on your kids arm. Choose your battles, right?

::

Coming home after a month away was a novelty at first - oh, I remember packing the dishwasher, ha! Like I was playing house, in one of the cubbies I used to make in third class. Now it's quickly a drag again. A drag in the most wonderful way, looking back on all the roads I could have taken and all the differences it could have made.

Yesterday I had to take Rocco to the RTA with me. On the back of our ticket he drew his first named picture - "Mum, it'th Buth and Woody. And Boowseye."



I've kept it, and put it on the fridge, will keep it forever. It will always remind me of the poor lady counting out all these numbers, in confusion. "367? 368? 369? Ummmm, 370? Who IS next?" I looked down to see Rocco clutching a huge handful of tickets because he liked pressing the button. I pretended I knew nothing of it. Sorry, lady.

::

This morning I was in the middle of the deepest, vivid dream - Dave had gone off the rails, and I was searching for him, and all these bad guys were chasing me in the city and I was naked. And I didn't know where my children were, and it was terrifying.

I woke up, got up, went to the toilet, made a coffee, and came back to make my bed. And knew EXACTLY where my children had been.



Bless this mess.

::

Max just asked .... "Mum, do we actually have any GOOD food to eat?" So I have to go. Please go send some love to my friend Lori, as she continues to write on her blog. Her posts and comment threads are blowing my mind.

Love to you. Bless your mess. xo
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