Thursday, January 7, 2016

School Holidays

We are in the middle of Week 4 school holidays.
Now I love school holidays. Sleeping in, staying up a bit later, lazy mornings, hanging with the kids.
We run on a balance of about 65% great, 35% fuck this I'm enrolling you kids in vacation care STOP ARGUING ABOUT BULLSHIT.
However I will not enrol my children in vacation care, mostly due to the fact I'm not currently working and no-one will pay for it, but also because a few years ago Leo did go for about a week and it was not a great experience.
Anyhoo. We are making our way through the holidays, together.
After spending an entire day with one another today, I'm talking swimming, playground, completing a 300 piece puzzle, driving, eating, reminding them to clean their teeth.

Question - how many times do you need to tell a person to brush their teeth before they actually start to do it without being told? Yesterday we had been out for about 45 minutes (queuing in Medicare/Centrelink no less) when I questioned my kids as to whether they had brushed before we left the house. The answer was no. So that means my 9 year old STILL needs reminding. Which equates to thousands of daily reminders.
Good to know.

Anyhoo. Tonight I decided I needed a bath. Josh was in the kitchen cooking his dinner.
Sidenote : I love to cook. Occasionally.
I also love not to cook, sometimes. Tonight was one of those nights. So the children and I had cheese toast and cucumber slices (one of our faves) & Josh spent about an hour in the kitchen preparing his steak, homemade potato cakes and caramelised onion. It was ready by about 8.45pm which is almost my bedtime & if I had to wait that long for dinner I would be curled up in a corner sobbing - so I didn't feel I missed out on too much.

Back to the bath. I shut the bathroom door, decide not to lock it, sink into the deliciously hot and bubbly water.
Knock knock knock. Door opens.
"Mum, can we have an ice-cream?"
Door closes. message is relayed to sibling. 10 seconds passes.
Knock knock knock. Door opens.
"Mum I'm still hungry"
Is Dad in the kitchen? Ask him.
Door doesn't quite close. About 20 seconds passes.
"Mum, can I have an apple?"
Yes. Door is left wide open.
"Mum can I have a nectarine?"
"Where are they?"
In the fridge.
20 more seconds.
"Where in the fridge?"
In the drawer.
15 seconds.
"They aren't in the drawer"
Look in the fridge.
"Where in the fridge?"
In the fucking fridge dickhead. (Ok so I thought that, I didn't say it.)
Check the shelves mate.
23 seconds pass.
"They aren't there Mum"
Yes they are.
"Can you look Mum?"
17 seconds. "I can't find them Mum".

I take a few moments to submerge my head, try to be thankful for the 7 minutes of glorious bath time I've been allocated and then I turn and look him in the eye.
How long do you think it will take me to find them mate? I'm thinking 15 seconds max.
He says "I don't think there are any Mum".
I graciously heave myself out of the bath & wrap myself up in my Mum only towel. Its about a month old & the chances are it won't retain the title of Mum Only for long. For now though, it's luxurious, soft and special. I love it.
We walk to the fridge (6 seconds?) and as I open the door I start to count....1....2....3.....
It takes me 4 seconds to find the nectarines. They were in the door, not on the shelf. My mistake. Dickheads.
We have spent the rest of this evening curled up in the parental bed watching screaming goats on youtube. I mean that shit is hilarious.
There are moments, hours, sometimes days where I fret that I could be more, should be more than just a Mum. That time will come. For now, there is a day like today, where we got it almost completely right, together. Thank goodness for screaming goats.