Running water for the evening bath.
"Babe, can you rather not use the shampoo for bubble bath."
"Its just for some bubbles"
"Yes, but thats an expensive shampoo, rather use the shower gel if you think Luke needs bubbles."
"I remember as a boy I always loved bubbles in my bath.. etc.. blah blah"
"Yes, but then use the other stuff, please."
"Look, when you go shopping again just try to think about Lukey sometimes, ok*?"
WHAAAAT?!! WTF?? Despite wanting to punch him till his arm fell off, all I did was just gape at him and burst into tears and storm upstairs.
How could he say that to me?
Because all I ever do is think about Luke. All the time.
From the moment I open my bleary eyes in the morning to the last exhausted minute before my beloved bedtime, and even if I happen to wake up during the night.
Has he kicked off his duvet?
Is he warm enough?
(getting up to check and pull duvet up over sleeping child)
Has he wet himself, do I need to change him?
Have I got his juice beside my bed for him when he comes to us in the morning?
Where is his favourite teddy?
What clothes should I set out for him?
Is his face clean enough to go out in public?
I need to scrub his shoes again.
Have I packed enough fresh undies and shorts and nappies in for him?
Lunchbox - check.
I need to buy more biscuits and fruit.
Will I get him to school on time? No time for tantrums, boy. Breakfast is waiting.
Is he enjoying his day at school?
What shall I make him for dinner and do I have anything at home, should I go to the shop or can he have peanut butter sandwiches for supper? Again.
If I'm stuck in traffic is the Husband free to collect the Boy?
Am I on time to pick him up? I don't want him to be the last child left at the creche.
Am I going to make it home in time for a toilet break, will he make it home in time?
Is the geyser on for evening bathtime?
Clean pyjamas, yes, top and bottom don't match but who cares, no-ones coming to visit tonight.
Dinner. Has he eaten enough? And is it reasonably healthy?
Are we letting him watch too much TV?
Am I corrupting him with sweet bribery for potty training?
Am I turning him into a brat by giving in to his tantrum?
Is it bedtime yet? (oh please, oh please...)
I need to change his sheet first. Go get a fresh one off the wash-line.
Right, where's the favourite teddy again?
Goodnight, sleep well, my angel.
Now Mommy is going to finish her glass of wine and possibly have some dinner too.
Is he crying? Let me quickly check.
Did I put the cushions on the floor so that if he rolls off the bed he doesn't crack his head open?
Is he warm enough?
Has he kicked off his duvet?.....
He is all I ever think about and that is what hurt so much, that someone so close could suggest that I don't think about or care enough about my child to buy simple bubble bath for him. Really?
Because I'm too bloody busy thinking about the number of nappies we have before we run out, do we have enough stuff for lunch boxes and the pile of clean clothes I have to iron for school! Things a little higher up on my priority list and of more importance.
All is forgiven, for now.
And an industrial size bottle of Ocean Breeze foam bath now adorns the bathroom shelf.
See I do care. Really.
And the Husband's bruises have almost healed.
* the Husband did apologize and explain that that wasn't what he meant, that "could I buy some bubble bath when I'm next in the shops"... too late, my heart was still hurt.
 |
| "What!! No bubbles??!! |
Why do we sometimes feel we need to do certain things a certain way? That if we don't, we'll be pity-ed or mentioned in the same sentence as "ag, shame..". And I can't spell pity-ed, maybe too much red wine.
Tonight is our anniversary. The Darling Husband and I were going to go out to dinner but at the last minute we changed plans and decided to stay in.
We shared a bottle of good old Chateau Libertas, a red that still reminds me of our wedding venue, and I cooked, might I say, a damned fine pesto chicken stir-fry dish. Later we will share the couch and a slab of chocolate while watching our favourite sci-fi show Fringe. Holding hands and cuddling is non-negotiable.
We have not have bought each other expensive gifts or dined at a romantic new restaurant.
But we have celebrated our special day in a special way that suits us today.
Maybe next year will see us sharing a meal at a charming restaurant with all the bells and whistles. But if we do it the same as we did it tonight I will be more than happy.
Some flowers would be nice though.
Once upon a time, a 30-something young girl with a slightly broken heart moved into a little flat behind her landlord's house. It was her first adventure at living completely on her own and she embraced her new found freedom with much enthusiasm. She spent hours toiling in the little garden patch, ruthlessly pulling weeds and tenderly planting young seedlings. She loved decorating her new little home, experimenting with paint colours and delighting in the discovery of beautiful parquet floors that had been hidden for years beneath dusty old carpets. She just loved pulling her furniture around and finding the best arrangement. Her garden flourished and she received many compliments on her humble little home. She enjoyed having her friends and her sweet family over for dinners and picnics in the burgeoning little garden patch. She was truly happy in her single-ness.
However, now and then, her healing heart did start to long for a special friend, a friend that would share the couch and a bowl of popcorn with her while enjoying a movie. A friend that would love to have her hold his hand and let her plant soft kisses on his neck. A friend that would make her laugh at his dry wit and silly observations. This friend would also have no problem making her friends his own friends too. He was to be a gentle man with strong arms and a tender heart. He would also share a clear plan to start a family with the girl.
Was this too much to ask?
Presenting her wishes to her Father, she added a last request that this special man not live too far away, that he live in a convenient part of town. Travel time and petrol costs were a factor in the girl's budget.
She would wait on His judgement and trust that He would present her with the man made for her.
In the meantime she would not fret about when that momentous occasion would be and went about enjoying her life.
The girl made a new friend with the girl that moved in next door. She was a single mother of two adorable young sons. She was also the landlord's daughter. She and the girl spent many hours enjoying a glass of wine together and watching episodes of Survivor. They decided to go out one evening to a dance. The neighbour girl decided to invite her brothers who lived next door and so they joined the girls. The eldest brother had wonderful blue eyes and reminded the girl somewhat of Matthew Perry. He made her laugh and held her ever so tight on the dance floor. He needn't have worried as she had no plans of slipping away.
The girl and the boy next door enjoyed a quiet friendship. However the girl was hesitant in giving her heart away and again pleaded with her Father to make it clear to her if this was the appointed man for her.
He reminded her of her last request to Him.
That the special man not live too far away.
The boy lived next door...
There it was.
With excitement the girl jumped in.
An opportunity presented itself on a Sunday evening.
Upon encouragement from the landlord, the boy brought some champagne over to the girl. Champagne never promotes a clear head but the girl needed some dutch courage.
The boy was sitting on the one end of the couch and the girl on the other. She tried to figure a way to slide closer to him without being too obvious. After more champagne she gave up and slipped away to the loo powder her nose.
Upon joining the boy again she noticed her puppy had jumped up onto her seat and thus presented her with a perfect opportunity to sit beside the boy. The boy made it clear he was happy with this arrangement.
From that moment on their friendship grew into a wonderful courtship heading toward a beautiful wedding on a very hot day in March.
Four years from that day the girl would find herself busy writing her own fairytale. She and the boy next door had produced a beautiful baby boy with blond hair and his daddy's blue eyes.They could agree that the child had been their greatest shared accomplishment.
Through good times and the not so good times, they had made it through so far. Laughter and a sense of humour had served them well, alongside respect and love for each other.
The girl could admit to being a bitch not so nice girl on many PMS occasions and if there was a medal for "Endurance of Moods" the boy should have been awarded truckloads.
There is no happy ending to this fairytale as this fairytale has not ended yet.
The girl and the boy shall hopefully live happily ever after.
So, the girl's Father, being a benevolent being, had granted her wishes. Hopefully He will grant her many more, for she is most grateful for all His blessings.
The moral of the story: trust your Father. He knows what He's doing.
