making me happy right now

 

1. This chai latte by my side. This bustling cafe. This absence of off-spring.

2. My doona cover fits my doona. I think it’s been five years in total that Mountain Dad and I have slept with a double-size doona in a queen-size cover. It’s not because we haven’t had one to actually fit the other, but rather something to do with sleeping temperatures and our queen-sized doona’s being “too hot” for my little thermos of a husband. It’s driven me crazy for ages, the way the doona slides around inside the cover. Over the course of the week the doona will slide from my side of the cover over to Shea’s and I’ll end up huddled under the flaccid flaps of cover. Not at all cosy or conducive to marital bliss.

This week I snapped and just put a queen in the queen and it fits. Making the bed this morning made me soooo happy! Ridiculous, I acknowledge, but I’m not ashamed to admit it.

Unfortunately we’re now temporarily playing host to a Little Ladie in our bed as we ‘encourage’ her brother to sleep later in the morning (I refuse to get him at 4:30am – poor second child). In her flannel jammies, wedged in between the two of us, she’s roasting hot and kicks ALL covers off ALL of us. I’m still ending up chilly and grouchy, but all is redeemed when I make the bed in the morning and glory in the sweet fit of it all.

3. That when I told Little Ladie this morning that her Grandpa Jim was home from his epic trip through Africa, she gasped and asked,

“Can we make him a card that says Sank-you for coming home Grandpa?”

She’s thoughtful and loving. Just like her Dad.

4. Little Man stands on his own. Yesterday for long enough that I could call his Dad to come from the other room and have a look. Little Man shows no inclination toward actually walking, but this one small act of independence took my breath away. The move away from me and into their own independent lives began the moment they were born. Even though I would argue that I still need my Mum, especially when I feel sick, I feel more empathy now as I consider how sending your chickens out into the world can be so emotionally fraught. Especially if they choose to marry a foreigner.

5. That we managed a cranberry-picking trip as the Family Newluks. Despite busy schedules. Despite it being a ‘poor’ year according to word on the street (or rather, word-on-the-damp-spruce-patch). Despite it getting colder (and so my complaining getting louder). Despite my nay-saying that the kids wouldn’t have a tolerance for it. We went. And it was good.

Good time together. Good to see how much Little Man loved shoving the tart berries in his mouth. Good to see Little Ladie work on her skills of deception and manipulation as she took credit, without hesitation, for cranberries in her tub that had been picked by me. Good to shut Mountain Dad up about this annual harvest. If we’d missed it I wouldn’t have heard the end of it;

“But Camille,” he exclaims, “you’d be stoopid to not get some! They’re free! We need to stock up for winter.”

Despite the fact that our freezer is so full I’ve stopped even pulling anything out of it because I can’t find anything in there anymore. Despite us still having pounds of cranberries from last years bumper harvest. Happily we’ve re-stocked and crammed another couple of pounds in. And added to the memory bank of family outings for parents-to-relish and children to groan about.