Hello there. It’s been a while.
I’ve been away for so long I’m not sure if I know how to do this anymore. Forgive me if I’m rusty. I’ll do my best and probably spend most of our time together looking for ways to lay blame for my absence. Children. Full time work. Lack of sleep.
Oh lack of sleep…why must you plague me still? Actually, it’s no longer lack of sleep that causes my haggard appearance, but rather interrupted sleep. There’s always something dragging me from the warm depths of slumber.
On returning home from our Christmas holiday in Australia, it was illness. First Little Ladie then Mountain Dad. Buddy Boy and I followed soon after and then we cycled back to the beginning as a new illness lay waste to our house. I found myself going to the doctor at least once a week, and at one point, when it was an appointment for me, she asked,
“And what can I do for you today?”
And I mumbled and stuttered out my reply that I think, well it’s funny really, but I, well I don’t want to say that it’s a cold, but I think I have a cold, but it’s a really bad cold, like, lots of coughing, so much so that my ribs and back ache from it, and it’s been hanging on for so very long and maybe it’s turning into something else like strep throat and maybe I need antibiotics or something because it just isn’t going away…
And she looked me over and it really was just a cold.
I’d taken time off work to make this appointment, swearing to all my colleagues that I’d return with some good medication to kick this thing and I’d no longer be hacking away all over the school.
But it was just a cold.
To make me feel better she said we could call it the plague.
My colleagues at work weren’t sure if I was joking about that.
So illness interrupted our sleep and then, when all are healthy there are just the usual interruptions of someone wanting an extra cuddle in the middle of the night. Sometimes I may be called forth to a bedside, at other times a little person will appear, like an apparition by my bedside, murmuring “Mama.”
Last week I awoke to find myself precariously balanced on the edge of my mattress. There was a set of feet resting on my throat. I lifted myself up to look for Mountain Dad. He was waaaaay across the other side of the bed, separated from me by the two kids who had somehow crept into bed without me realising. It was nice; heart warming to see my three beloveds curled up so safe and close like that. It was also extremely uncomfortable.
My sleep is always interrupted and it’s annoying but part of life it seems. Maybe I’d be better set to get more writing done if it were not so. Maybe it’s just a busy time of life.
My work is great. The Mountain Kids are happy in their daycare centres and Mountain Dad is thankful for part-time work that allows him two days at home. He’s not recently obliged any of my requests for hilarious antics to provide me with writing fodder. Maybe he’s maturing? He’s looking to plan our lives for the next few years, he books in our holidays ahead of time. He wants the weekend plans booked before Friday night rolls around, for goodness sake. Today, I’m meeting him for an appointment at the bank to discuss savings plans.
“Savings-what?” I wonder….
We are well. And muddle along in a quiet, though oftentimes rather snotty, daily rhythm.
Pretty boring, eh? Maybe this upcoming wall-tent camping trip for Easter will conjure some good mishaps for the blog reporting.
Until then, it’s nice to see you again.
We skied 9km into a cabin for my birthday. On our return, Little Ladie drew the above picture titled, "A log cabin in the woods with a swimming pool and two diving boards."
That's my girl!