not ready

I'm in a weird place right now.

A twinkling, twilightly kind of space.
Three of my children have grown to be adults.
Like....ADULTS.. !
How is that even possible?

It was a blink ago that they were wee small toddlers and I was worrying over whether they ate enough vegetables ( about 22% of the time)  or if they understood the concept of sharing ( about 0.3% of the time).

It was only yesterday I walked my sweet first born in to his Prep classroom and handed him over to the education department. It was only this morning that my first daughter lost her first tooth.
Surely it was only a heartbeat ago that I held my second daughter, fresh out of the humidicrib (and whispered, " oh my darling girl, you will be trouble").

And yet here I am, with fully grown adult children , setting forth into the world boldly and randomly in a non-mum-approved manner.

My second child is all set to fly to THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PLANET in a weeks time, all set for a cosplaying Anime convention in the good ole USA. Am I ready for that ?

arrrm.....

Nope.
No.
Hell No!

I'm breathing, and meditating and trying to remember that it's just a concept of space or distance ( and just secretly googling flight prices to the US in case I need to go and rescue/ search for/ extradite or generally bring home second child)

An everyday family tradition

What is your best thing ?

Those are the words we hear every night repeated at our dinner table.
Years ago when the older kids were just little people we started an everyday dinner time tradition, to try and focus on each other's highlights and low points in the day.

At some stage in the meal someone will ask any other person at the table "What was your best thing today? " The replies are often funny, or mundane, sometimes they are revealing and pleasantly surprising. Sometimes a best thing is as simple as the snuggly welcome home someone got from the dog that afternoon, or that they managed to shoot a netball hoop after 258 failed attempts.  I LOVE it when their best thing is whatever I've cooked for dinner.

The initiator then asks " What was your worst thing today?" Again, the answers can reveal in a sentence or two whether the replier is having issues with a subject or classmate, whether they are sad about something we didn't even know about.  It's always okay to say you didn't have a worst thing.. That is a happy day indeed !

We then ask again " What is another best thing" to finish on a positive. Once that person has given their three answers it's their turn to ask another person at the table and so we go on. Any visitors to our table are included, including grandparents, aunts and uncles, sleepover visitors, even dad's mate who came for dinner on his way to a conference !

The only rules are - we all listen to each other's answers, and you aren't allowed to say "nothing" for your best thing. If the answer is nothing we all give some helpful hints, including the fact that they have a hot meal in front of them, warm clothes and a loving family. They might need to be reminded that there is only one week until school holidays, or that they got an award at school assembly.

So what were we teaching our kids ?
That there is always more good than bad in every day.
To try and focus on the positives and really think about what worked and what didn't work in each day.

They have learnt to sit, listen and take some interest in what is going on in the lives of every other person at the table. 

When kids are little, we as parents often ask "What did you do today?" Imagine how busy little people try to summarize all that happened in the day-  Impossible! Giving them a starting place and a specific question helps them organize their thoughts.
As the children have gotten older, we've found this little tradition has been crucial in engaging our teenagers in conversation. We could ask "Have you had a good day?" and we would no doubt get a monosyllable answer. With this tradition, they have to answer in a sentence and give more than just a Yes or No response. 

We didn't realise it when we started, but this simple family tradition has become one of the most important daily events in our lives.  

Do you have a family ritual or tradition ? How do you help your child reflect on their day ?

Laughing at myself - I MUST CONFESS

I MUST CONFESS - Deep inside, past all the grown up, mother of 4, responsible working nurse me, way past the mortgage paying, grocery shopping, bed making 42 year old me, there still dwells a bemused 18 yr old.

I regularly have moments of wonder.

Wonder that anyone thinks I'm mature enough for all this responsibility, that I have even a quarter of what it takes to raise another human being, let alone four of them.

I'm stunned that I am deemed trustworthy enough to work, to drive, to supervise teenagers.
And yet here I am.
Sometimes I talk to myself, from old to young, or from young to old.... one girlfriend to another.

Sometimes 18  year old me is stomping her feet saying "I don't want to do this".  Often she is looking in the mirror saying "Holy crap Lisa, what the heck is going on with your hair? "
Regularly she is shaking her head and chuckling "Wow, 42 years and you still can't put on eyeliner !"

 She laughs out loud at me ... ( she doesn't LOL becuase at 18 years of age for me there was no such thing as text messages, or mobile phones. )... she laughs out loud at my rules for my teenagers. Giggles when I lay down the "Rules when your boyfriend comes to visit", and snorts when I'm demanding that my teenage girls do some homework. She mocks me and asks "How are you going to handle this one" when my teenager declares (again) that she hates school and is quitting, and high-fives me when I manage to convince the same teenager to stay at school, at least for the rest of this week.

When my teenage daughter is telling me she hates a subject or that some teacher is boring, on the outside I am maturely trying to problem solve and explaining the importance of a complete education.
But 18 year old me is reminding me of how many times I told my parents I wanted to quit. I'm reminded of how frustrated I was at having to do subjects I hated, and how I thought most of my teachers were idiots.

18 year old me shows me a flashback, of my Mum sitting on the end of my bed, gently asking if I would consider doing just an hour of study for my HSC.. and of me laughing and saying "Nope" I had a boyfriend to visit, friends to catch up with.

When my just-turned-18 year old daughter asked if she could go to Melbourne for a night with a group of friends, 42 year old me at first said "Hell, no". After several discussions she got permission to go but only after I questioned her for details, rang the motel they were all staying at, checked on who else was going, lectured her on the possible dangers of drinking and going out in the city and the importance of sticking together.


A little whisper in my ear was again reminding me of how, just one month after turning 18, I announced I was going away for a weekend with my boyfriend, and that there was nothing my parents could do to stop me. I was bold enough to go, to just expect that I had every right in the world to do as I pleased and that they would just have to get over it.

I'm pretty sure that 18 year old me is a bit shocked at all the seriousness of this parenting gig. She's certain that this isn't at all like we had imagined. I think she thinks I'm a bit of a bore.

But that's because she's 18, and she doesn't know what I know now.

-x--x--x--x--x--x--x-

What would your 18 year old self say to you now? 

On Mondays I love to linkup with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.

She is having a teensy little break from blogging so I am hosting the I Must Confess linkup this week. Please join in - add you post confessing anything, or just sharing what's going on in your day. We love to see new faces so add your link and have fun visiting the other blogs. xx

Prompt for next weeks I Must Confess Post is  'If I could go back to one single moment in my life, it would be...'  hosted by Emma at fivedegreesofchaos.com ... get typing bloggy friends.

I'm also Linking with One Mother Hen for Open Slather 

Dealing with Teenagers

I must confess, when we decided to start our family at the tender ages of 21 and 22, we planned a pregnancy. A baby, maybe we projected far enough to toddler-hood and the first year of school. But honestly, most of the "Let's start a family" discussion was really "Let's have a baby".

But babies have a strange little habit of growing.

And they become tantruming toddlers, and boundary pushing children. They become smelly and busy school kids. 

And then... then they become teenagers.

Dealing with teenagers can be fun and funny, it can be enlightening, rewarding and awesome. It can also drive you demented and make you want to stab yourself in the eye with a teaspoon.

Trying to communicate with teenagers and anticipate their moods is a hit and miss game of epic proportion.

I can't remember a day in the past 4 years when at least one of my teens wasn't defensive, moody and offended by something I said.

I know I know, just let it go... 

... except it's bloody hard to keep on trucking through the bewildering and unpredictable spurts of anger and still lovingly care for the large darlings.

Today in the space of an hour I managed to annoy Miss 18 by asking her to write her work shifts on the calendar ( you know, so I can DRIVE HER TO WORK ! )

I am now receiving the silent treatment from Miss 16 because I bought the wrong sort of bread ( actually someone else bought the bread but apparently I am the Grand Pooh Bah of food stuffs in our home so the buck stops here). 

Someone called the house asking for him, so I made the outrageous decision to wake Mr 20 at 8am and clearly he's not appreciating the gesture, given the huffing and muttering from his bedroom.

And Miss 10 , a newly minted tween as of last Thursday has begun teen-practice, so she was truly angry, sulky and generally unpleasant because she had to brush her hair for school.

Right now, the only ones in the house who aren't displeased with me are the fluffy four legged members.

(actually the cat doesn't like me much either).

Linking up with Ann from Help I'm Stuck for I Must Confess Monday, 
holiday hosting for lovely Kirsty who is having a much deserved break xx

A House Divided

Our home is clearly divided. 
Four who do and two who do not.
I'm on the larger team, and as far as I can tell, there is nothing remotely attractive about crossing to the other side.

photo credit

Four Sleeper-Inners.  (Sleeper Innerers. Sleep Inners, people who stay asleep after the crack of dawn)

On my team I am the captain, after many years experience of that delicious snooze-state. I love the blissful moment when you emerge out of a deep sleep, remember that there is nothing urgent on the calendar for today, and roll over to submerge into dreams again. Heaven!

J-man is 20 ( holy shamoly, my heart stutters when I write that number.. 20 ! But I digress) .. ahem J-man perfected the art of sleeping in around the age of 12 and has refined his skills to the point where we are lucky to see him before lunchtime.

Miss 16 has been sleeping in since a similar age, she works hardest at it on days when she has stuff to do, like.. school. But on the weekend, she will slumber away until she can hear the sounds of morning tea or her frantic Facebook updates become too urgent to ignore.

Miss 9 may not actually sleep in all the time ( although she regularly hits 9am before she opens her eyes) but she understands the importance of a leisurely rising. Playing on her iPod, reading in bed, talking to her dolls. She is that rare blessing of a child who waits until someone tells her she can get up.

Leading the opposing team of Annoyingly Cheerful Early Risers is The Man I Married. He jumps out of bed at the first break of dawn, happy, chipper and annoyingly loud. He makes a coffee LOUDLY,he munches toast LOUDLY, he greets the dogs LOUDLY, he ponders what he'd like to do today with them LOUDLY. He is crazy enough to get up at 6 am on a sleep-in-able morning to pop down to the gym for an hour. He is tinkering in the garage by 8 am. Mowing the lawn by 9am.  A ridiculously chipper morning person. 

Miss 18 is also a morning person. She is much more quiet than her Dad, but she is often in the kitchen by 7 am, sweet and cheerful. She does go back into her room and tried to not disturb Those Who Won't Wake. She accepts my grunts and growls and brings coffee to soothe the morning beasties. 

Back in the days of three wee small children ( and Miss 9 was just an idea) sleep-ins were but an elusive dream. Now they are attainable and plenty, I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why anyone would deny themselves the glorious pleasure. 

Which team are you on ?

Happy Birthday to our sweet girl

In a totally self indulgent photograph heavy Thankful Thursday Post , I am THANKFUL today for my beautiful daughter who turns 18 today.

From the minute we knew she was on her way, she has been the softest whisper in my heart, a gentle and forgiving soul.

She has been the sweetest smile on my saddest day and she never ceases to amaze me with her creativity and her kindness.

I look at the woman she is today and it just takes my breath away, that this lovely young lady has grown from our bumbling attempts at parenthood.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEET GIRL.

May all your dreams come true, just like ours did.

 XXX

Thankful Thursday xx

Oh Happy Day

Every parent wants their child to have the ability to support themselves. I'll be honest, there were times where I secretly doubted that was possible for our boy. 

Times in the muddy swamp land of school days with undiagnosed Aspergers syndrome, when I just despaired. 
When he couldn't even remember two sequenced instructions and follow through ( not even on the first one!)
When his Grade 6 teacher told us he was never going to amount to anything..(yes he actually said it, in front of J-man)
When he was so sad and negative about himself I didn't even know if he would be here by the end of his cruel teen years.
When he got left behind, so far behind in basic reading and writing that in the end teachers told me he was really just coming to school to learn social skills.

Amazingly, and yet not so surprisingly, J-man has laughed off all of that.
He learned to read and write when he was good and ready. 
He found a small but loyal group of friends at school and decided that he was just fine the way he was, and everyone else could just get over it.
He figured out the value of remembering instruction very quickly in Army Cadets when not remembering earned you a bawling out and extra duties.

He rolled with the punches dealt by the Australian Unemployment system which is a deceptive and unsupportive mess. He put his resume out there over and over, applied for countless jobs, shook hands, nodded his head and put on a brave face with every knock back. For 18 months he has tried and tried and tried again.


This week we had exciting news.
Big!
Huge!
Jumping up and down in the kitchen with my mother, squealing and crying kind of news.

J-man has been offered ( and has accepted ) a four year apprenticeship in Carpentry and Joinery.
A local builder gave him a 4 week trial and was happy enough with what J-man did to offer to take him on.

We are so grateful that this opportunity is here, that J-man was able to focus and shine. The builder loves that he has got to work early every single day, and works til stumps. He loves J-mans attention to detail, that he likes to work on a task until it is perfect ( hello Aspergers!) and that J-man is eager to learn. He likes him. 

We are already seeing changes in J. He walks a little taller, he has more self confidence when talking with his mates about plans for the future. He's concerned about the aesthetic street appeal of our house and is considering replacing the old window frames in the lounge room.

He's going to be okay. 

Oh Happy Day!

Risk taking behaviour

Sunk into the dirty sandpit, the monkey bars were the place to be in my school yard.

Every recess and every lunch we scrambled over the hot metal frame, practising backflips, leaping from the lower bars to the overhead bridgework and hoping like hell that our sweaty hands would grip and hold the steel. 

The bravest kids had little routines, swooping and flipping in a less than graceful and yet energetic gymnastics frenzy.

Teachers watched on, sipping a mug of coffee and occasionally calling out if it looked like someone was going to lose an eye.

Every now and then, a kid fell and ate some sand. There were some grazed knees and one broken arm that I can recall.

I don't remember it ever being referred to as "risk taking behaviour" although there was certainly risk. 

What I do remember was standing on the lower rungs trying to work up the courage to push out into open air and reach for the top bar. I must have stood on that rung every break time for 3 school terms. I was sick in the stomach. Anxious, desperate. 

Logically the distance was not so great, the abyss not so broad, but to a 10 year old it was like leaping into the grand canyon and hoping to catch a trapeze bar.

I watched jealously as my braver classmates leapt with abandon, I felt left behind as they sat straddling the top rungs like kings surveying their land.

I remember the day I finally took the leap, the adrenaline, the victory and the exhilaration when I caught the top bar and swung myself up to sit with the kings.

A risk taken, a mountain conquered.

That climbing frame has been pulled down now. Far too unsafe. Kids were taking risks on it, silly childish risks. Someone might get sued hurt.

It's been replaced with a brightly coloured Fort.

It stands 4 foot off the ground and has safety nets on 2 sides (because school children can't be trusted to not fall through the gap and someone might get hurt) On the entry side are sturdy steps ( a ladder with open rungs being unsuitable in case a foot slips off a rung and someone gets hurt). There is a slippery dip on the fourth side which is missing the dip and which a kid can sit on for a year before sliding, the gradient is so slight. (because a child might slip down too fast and someone might get hurt). I'm certain that half of St Kilda beach lies underneath the fort for extra soft landings. Lucky its brightly coloured, because the colour is the most exciting thing about it.

A friend of mine has a son who is regularly in trouble at school for his exuberant behaviour. He is full of energy, a typical showoff, third child and after a few hours trapped in a classroom, he tends to let of steam with school yard play. 

What bothers me is the phone calls my friend gets from school to discuss her sons "risk taking behaviour".

"Tom jumped from the top of the fort and that is an unacceptable risk" -a four foot tall fort! 

"Tom showed his mates how he can do a back-flip, and that is an unacceptable risk" - wow, we spent so much time doing cartwheels, handstands and back-flips it's a wonder the Moscow Circus didn't try to enlist us as acrobats.

"Tom jumped off the retaining wall near the garden. No not the high wall, the retaining wall. Yes the one that is low enough for preppies to lean over and plant seedlings. But it was onto hard concrete and anything could have happened.!"

Just between you and me, I think Tom is pretty normal. He's not engaged in dangerous risk taking behaviour, he's finding his boundaries.

What is not normal is to try to protect our kids from every experience just so they don't scrap a knee or jolt their ankle. Of course helmets while riding bikes and skateboards is sensible, of course we shouldn't allow our kids to hurl themselves out of windows, but we have taken our desire to protect our little treasures from every little feeling that isn't sunshine and roses, that we are denying them important life lessons. 

How will they learn how to take a risk safely, if we never allow them to risk.

And if we as parents, guardians and teachers prevent all risk taking throughout childhood. what do you think will happen when they finally get the freedom of adulthood, including cars, money and alcohol?

We are creating a disaster with our bubble-wrapped kids. 

We are creating a generation of young adults who have no real idea how to be safe.

What do you remember doing in your childhood that would draw gasps of horror now. 

It's been a while

Having taken a step off the blogging wagon for the summer holidays, it's been a bit of a struggle to step back on.

Nothing really to say, not much happening, just school holidays, laziness, high school booklists and trying to cook for a family of 6 without actually, you know, COOKING.

And then today I got to surprise my darling girl and made her cry. 
So to break the blog drought and to let you know that you will still be reduced to tears when your big tough teenager cries, I'm sharing this with you.




His name is Gimli.
Also I'm not entirely sure he is a he. 

But he's cute, and she is in love

An accidental Halloween

Yesterday was Halloween, which in Australia means.. not much really. Sure, in the $2 shops there is Halloween merchandise, but on the whole it is a non-event for most Aussies.

 

A couple of years ago a new family arrived in our street. On Halloween their two young girls got dressed up and went trick or treating.
Last year their numbers had increased to Six.
This year, as I was doing my shopping I had a thought, and threw a little bag of chocolate eyeballs into my trolley "just in case".

Yesterday at the supermarket there were 12 fat orange pumpkins on display for carving. I'm pretty sure they didn't expect to sell any, but at $1 per kilo, I thought "Why Not?" I've seen pictures on line and have been curious about how the whole thing worked...
I chose the biggest, and it cost me a whopping $4.87 .

After school. Sarah and I carefully removed its slimey innards - gross-  and carved our first pumpkin. It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, we discovered the skin is as tough as boots, but the flesh inside was like slicing apples. Miss 9 drew a jack-o-lantern face on the pumpkin and we set to work. Grand plans for wonderful art got quickly downscaled as we realised how tricky it is to manoeuvre a kitchen knife around inside a pumpkin neatly.

 

But in the end we had a BLOODY GOOD pumpkin head.

We put a tea light candle in it and placed it outside our door so any little "Trick or Treaters" would know we would welcome them.

At 6pm there were 4 groups of kids dressed up in costumes ( to be honest I think I've already seen most of those costumes at the Book Week parade this year) .

This is what I saw -

Kids running around being silly and goofey and having fun. This evening they were allowed to walk up and down the street, they felt safe and they were laughing.

I saw big kids walking, holding the hand of little kids. Big kids helping little kids in using their manners .

I saw a big brother lift his little sister up in his arms so she could have a turn at pushing the door bell. Then he put her down and helped straighten out her long sparkly princess dress. In that moment, as she looked at him, she ADORED him.

I saw Mums standing at their letterboxes, watching from a distance, trusting that the neighbourhood would be safe and kind.

I saw elderly neighbours clapping hands for a little boy who performed a trick - a fairly impressive backflip !

Miss 9 had already put on her witch outfit for the pumpkin carving, as you do, so when she saw one of her friends at our door she asked if she could go with them. Off she went, mingling into a group of kids she didn't know, making new friends.


The kids were polite and respectful, they used beautiful manners at every door.

I have to say that it was a lot of fun, it was so nice to watch the kids just being kids. We need more of that in our very serious, locked down world.

There has been a lot of talk on Social Media that Halloween is Un-Australian. That we don't need, and in fact MUST NOT succumb to this American holiday. That allowing kids to Trick or Treat is begging and bludging off neighbours.

Never-mind the fact that we celebrate Chinese New Year ( and we aren't China) , the Queens birthday is no where near her actual birthday, the nation stops for a horse race , apparently those are all worthy undertakings... I really don't understand the opposition to something that is really just a bit of fun for children.

With all the negative talk about Halloween, how it encourages kids to beg, to be hoodlums running through the street, the only questionable behaviour I saw came from a 50 year old married man who came to his door, yelled and swore at small children and lectured them on being UN-Australian. Guess who I admire more?

Next year we will be carving two pumpkins :-)

Ten Reasons Teenagers are great

1. They can make you coffee - this is an important milestone for any teen, the love and gratitude that pours out from Mum when they bring a lovely steaming mug of coffee is comparable to the elation you felt the first time your small child successfully wiped their own butt. Extra points for a couple of pieces of peanut butter toast. 

2. They can organise their own playdates. Even better, at those playdates you no longer feel that slightly wary "oh god, please don't hit little Johnny over the head with the Tonka Truck this time" feeling. Teenagers know how to share with their friends, to take turns and to not cry if they don't get the cupcake with the most sprinkles.

3. They sleep in !
   I repeat - They sleep in !

4. They take care of their own personal hygiene. They shower themselves. Your back no longer aches from bending over the bath tub, no tears and tantrums on hair-washing night. You no longer have any information about the consistency of anyone's poo. You don't have to wipe anything .  I know ! Winning!

5. They get your jokes and can hold a real conversation that doesn't involve Barbie or Thomas the Tank Engine. Real genuine discussions with actual multi-syllable words. 

6. They can sit through an entire movie without needing a toilet break. 

7. They can help out. Teenagers are capable of washing a sink of dishes and they can finally reach the clothes line. I'm not saying bribery isn't needed to get them to help out, but it sure is nice to be able to share the workload a little and if it helps, think of it as 'preparing them for when they leave home'.

8. The angst of finding a suitable babysitter with National working with Children certificate and at least three references is no longer needed. Yes my friends, teenagers babysit themselves !! It has been years since I worried if a day carer was secretly a deviant, or felt the need to place hidden cameras in a stuffed teddy bear. 

9. You can start to reclaim some of the space from the acres of Lego, matchbox cars and Barbie dolls. I'm not saying teenagers don't have stuff - my girls have enough makeup and hair product to put on a broadway show of Priscilla Queen of the Desert- but it isn't taking up every centimetre of the floor and cupboard space in the family room. I can now sit on the couch without the unexpected surprise of a stiff Barbie leg venturing where it wasn't invited. A walk to the bathroom can be made without turning on lights and checking for Lego landmines. 

10.  Teenagers are a photograph coming into focus. All your hard work, all the worry and fuss. Every time you guided them through saying 'please' and 'thankyou', each time you sat them on the naughty chair, every parent teacher interview at school, every exhausted phone call to your best friend asking for ideas. This is where you finally start to see the results. It's not perfect yet, there are glitches and stumbling blocks. But ever so slowly, through the teen years, the picture comes into focus and you see the grownup person you have been nurturing.

It's a beautiful thing.

Linking with Jess for  I Blog On Tuesdays xxx


 

Things I know - Raw

I know it sounds cliché , I know I am supposed to be far more enlightened.
I know that every step towards independence is a good thing and I know he will be alright.
But my heart aches.
It aches, raw and exposed.

My baby is not a baby and although many moments and footsteps have brought us to this place, although I have had many warning signs and A-ha moments, right now I am absolutely struggling with the fact that my baby does not need me.

He tolerates me, he humours me.
He loves me and quickly cuddles me in the morning, fleetingly and then he's gone.
It's as though he knows that if he lingers too long within my arms, in my clutching embrace, I just might not let him go.


I know how to love, and to protect fiercely.
I know how to close ranks, and I know how to close the doors.
If you need a master in shutting out the world, an expert in finding a quiet, safe haven, a retreat, I'm your girl. But ....

I don't know how to do this.
I don't know how to let go.

 

 

What I know, (and what I don't know) with Rhianna at A Parenting Life

 

 

The Bath - IBOT

Steam warms the room as hot water pours into the spa bath. A few drops of beautiful oil adds a delicate scent to the air. Large fluffy towels lie folded at the step, flickering candles give a soft glow. I have my favourite music playing softly in the background. A lovely fat book, freshly selected from the library waits for me, a glass of wine on the ledge beside me as I dip my toes into heaven. I sink in slowly, savouring the delicious pinpricks that spread across my skin, adjusting to the new soothing warmth.

'Just what I needed. An hour or two to just be calm and serene'

photo credit

Total relaxation. I sigh, closing my eyes and resting my head back to float in this cocoon.

Knock Knock

A whisper through the door .. "Mummy I forgot to give you a note from school."
I smile gently and softly say "That's okay chicken, you can show me in the morning. Go back to bed" .. I drift my fingers across the surface of the water, watching tiny bubbles form and disappear.
A louder whisper " Mummy I love you. Are you going to kiss me goodnight?"
I reply "I love you too sweetie, and I already kissed you when I put you to bed, remember? Hop back in bed now okay ?"
Little feet patter away.
I force my shoulders down, stretch my neck out and let the heat work its magic on the bunched muscles.

photo credit

"Calm and serene...."


Knock Knock

"Babe, do we have eggs?" asks The Man I Married.
I open one eye and reply "Yes. Third shelf on the fridge."
He leaves.  He returns. "I can't find them. Are you sure we've got some?"
I sigh.: " Well they were there this morning.. do you need them right this second?"
TMIM replies " No, don't worry, just relax and enjoy your bath."
I turn on the spa pump and jets of water start to knead my back. I can't hear my music anymore, over the noise of the pump. I stare at the flame of the candle, imagining it is alive. 

 'Shhh, relax. Calm and serene, calm and serene'

photo credit 

Knock Knock

"Mum, did you wash my skirt for school today? I can't find it." she yells through the door.
I sit up, water sloshing against the bath edge. 
"I washed everything that was in the hamper. If you put it in there I washed it. If it wasn't in the hamper it was not washed. I am trying to have a bath."
There is no reply but I can sense she is still there waiting for more.
"I do not have it in here with me."
"Fine " she says, in that way that tells me everything is far from fine. A few seconds and a door slams.
I sit there, water cooling on my back as I try to gather myself and find my happy place again.

photo credit 

 'Relax. Be calm and serene, please be calm and serene'

Knock Knock

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

"What?"  (hissed between clenched teeth.)
J-man says through the door " Do you know I have an army cadet camp this weekend?"
I roll my eyes. "Yep. I know that."
"It's just that I need to get my snacks. We have to take our own snacks. When do you think we can do that?"
I count to ten. "How about tomorrow hmm? Because right now, I'm naked in the bath. "
J-man thinks it over "Yep, good plan". He walks away.

 'Focus! You are Calm and serene !'

The spa pump is giving me a headache. I can't get comfortable.

photo credit 

Knock Knock

The Man I Married opens the door and switches on the heat lamps. I am blinded. .
 "Wow, it's too hot in here." He flips on the fan and any exposed, damp skin on my body immediately puckers into goosebumps.
"Is your bath nice? The dogs wanted to say hello."
Two fluffy dogs come jumping onto the bath ledge, knocking over my glass of wine. They both enjoy the spilled contents as I watch.

 'Calm and serene have left the building'

I gaze at TMIM. I can't find words, or at least any words that will not leave him and I at loggerheads.

"Actually, I think I'll just get out."

He looks at the bath and then back at me. " So soon? That's a bit of a waste of all that water don't you think?"

He walks out, leaving the fluffy ones behind, trying to jump in the water with me. Damp puppy paws have reduced my towels to a dirty mess.

"Bonkers" I mutter. "My life is completely bonkers".

Linking with Jess for  I Blog On Tuesdays xxx