here we are
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.
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