I’m teetering on the edge of a fog.
I know this because I’m crying. A lot.
I am taking everything incredibly personally.
My sleep is restless and broken.
I’m also not getting enough of it.
I’m trying really hard to not fall over the edge into it.
By laughing with my children.
By crying on my friends who take me to lunch, introduce me to subway and make me addicted to terrriyaki chicken w/ sweet onion subs.
Who give me strategies that work.
By talking to my husband and continuing to ‘let him in’.
Then making myself realise how different this is to only a few years ago when I would retreat to angry silence and slam doors.
But I have moments when I do things that I know must damage all I love.
Like telling Oscar I love him but that I need space and can’t have him touch me. And him simply saying OK, then sitting on the other lounge, watching me, and asking “Mumma OK?”
And the thoughts of driving too quickly around that bend, or into the back of that car, or into that tree come back.
And once more I cry.
And cry.
But tomorrow I will wake and have a good day. When all of that is forgotten and I wonder who could that have been.
Month: March 2007
Movies
I watched Jarhead last night. I liked it. Jake Gyllenhaal is h.o.t.
*****
I’m watching Mozart and the Whale tonight – about Izzy and Donald, a love story of two adults with autism. Josh Hartnett is freakin’ amazing. But the movie? Is just breaking my heart.
*****
Did I tell you Chef and I went to see Will Ferrell in Stranger Than Fiction and it was excellent?
So on the weekend before last weekend…
We joined eleventy gagillion people and walked Sydney Harbour Bridge to commemorate its 75th anniversary. Here is our journey in pictures.
The start
A slow p-plater!
The start of the walk
The whinging started about 5 minutes later.
Heading on to the bridge:
The excitement was almost overwhelming:
First glimpse of the coathanger:
Scenes of ‘our bridge’:
More than one day of mine this week.
5.45am – up
6.15 – write comprehensive list for Chef which he clearly completes in about 10 minutes before he goes to work
6.20 – leave house
7 – work
2.15 – leave work
3 – arrive at Oscar’s school
3.15 – 3.30 – Oscar finally appears, about the last child to leave school grounds.
3.30-4.00 – call in at uniform shop for more socks, new school hat, new pe shirt, visit to Woollies for stuff for dinner and stuff Chef asked me to pick up for him for work
4.15 – to Chef’s work, pick up Felix and Jasper, transfer car seat, head back to uniform shop w/ cash (who doesn’t have eftpos these days!?!)
4.30 – soccer
5.30 – home, start dinner – prepare and produce lamb cutlets w/ dijon crust, my sweet potato gratin, broccoli and cauliflower w/ home made white sauce – mum helps w/ Jasper’s bath
6 – sit down to dinner (that’s right – prepare all the above and on the table in just under half an hour. Sometimes I impress even myself)
6.30 – clear up to a point, homework w/ the two big boys, J to bed, readers done, story read
8.45 – Felix into bed – finish cleaning up kitchen
9.30 – realise leakage of defrosting fruit in fridge is a problem and am going to have to make jam and marmalade.
9.30-12.30 – sterilise jars, make plum and cinnamon jam and lime marmalade.
1am – bed
5.15am – up and repeat.
Big red metallic silver car
So, you know, when you’re about to have four kids – two of which will be teenagers before we know it, the others in car seats which take up so.much.friggin’.room. – you need a fucking big car.
4WDs don’t cut it because the second row of seats aren’t permanent, take up boot space and are a hassle to get in and out of.
Fancy pants people movers are no good as they only have six seats, so if one of the boys wanted to bring a friend they wouldn’t fit. And none of them have decent enough boot space (remember, we’re factoring in school age kids and kids in strollers – and those kids so close together there is a double stroller.
And they all feature car carpet. That hideous construct that means once grass, sand and crumbs gets into it, they never.ever.come.out.
So behold:
The boys l.ov.e. it.
It still freaks me out in terms of size, but that is slowly passing and I’m quite enjoying being at the same driving height as an Sydney Buses. People kinda get out of your way, which appeals. And does she go!?! Bloody oath.
Oh, and it has plastic flooring. The salesman joked you could hose it out, until I pointed out to him that was actually a selling point for us. Once he told us you can take the back seats out and fit in a motorbike, Chef was sold.
Oscar’s has had nightmares – where the new car is cold.
There are tears if they have to go anywhere in our original car.
Chef was driving it yesterday and he passed another one on the road. They waved. It’s like “Breeders of the world UNITE!”