Sunday

Cleaning is a chore for which I have no patience for. I am busy, with my job and my children and my life and frequently the things that are not vital and are not easy simply don't get done. The evenings are for dinner and homework, reading with the children, putting the baby down. Saturdays are for swimming lessons, laundry and the illusion of "rest". Sundays are family days, dedicated to long walks, roast beef dinner and board games before bed.

So you see, scrubbing walls and washing windows and all the rest is of no use to me.

Alas, occasionally even I must look around and see the state of things. So I berate myself without sympathy and resolve to clean up my act.

And so, we clean. I vaccumm and clean carpets, scrub walls, wash blinds, clear window sills of junk. And then, despite my disdain for the act of cleaning, I take a step back and can't help but marvel at how very nice it all looks, this state of cleanliness. And I assure myself that I will force my family to do more REAL cleaning every day, and I will not let it get to be a mess again.

And so it goes.

Rafe Notes

His vocabulary grows every day. He says "Uh Oh" and "Ow!" and today- a very sweet, very angelic "no". Sadly to be a very stern, very loud "NO!", tomorrow.

I teach him things now. Some would say I should've broken out the flashcards long ago, but he's happy and smart, and so I'm happy. We talked about an orange elephant today, and said goodnight to the trees and wind and rain. We said goodnight to his legs and arms as we slid them inside his pajamas.

He smiles a lot, and likes to play peek a boo, still. He enjoys the way the game can be played anywhere. He can hide behind his crib at bedtime, or in our closet, he can pull his blanket over his face, or even put his hands over his eyes. The perfect game, so fun, so simple- it makes me laugh out loud every time

I hesitate to take him out, as most mothers of toddlers hesitate- but he proves me wrong every time. Yesterday an unexpected trip to the dentist proved almost enjoyable. He sat in his stroller while I read him a story in the waiting room, sat in his stroller and ate a biscuit while I was hacked at in the dentist chair. And smiled and yelled when we raced down the ramp to the car park in the rain. He subsequently cried all the way home, but at least he didn't do it at the dentist's!

Tonight he kissed his stuffed panda bear at bedtime, perfectly, right on the end of his snout. And then he held it up for Daddy and me to kiss as well. Sometimes just looking at him makes my heart swell and tears come to my eyes, I am so lucky.

13 Years Ago

Thirteen years ago...

I was thirteen. I had a boyfriend named James Riddle, who sang just like Noel Gallagher, from Oasis. I loved to listen to him sing. He was adopted and his family was very nice. I forget what his dad did. I remember their car though, it was long, like a station wagon, but not quite. And it was beige. The roof inside was coming to pieces and we used to reach up and peel bits off, as if we just couldn't help it. He loved The Beatles.

He was crazy, or at least he liked to boast that he was. He said he was schizophrenic and more than once he had to be hospitalized because he had done something. I visited him one time in the hospital. He didn't seem himself, but that's all that I remember.

I saw him again. Maybe, 9 years ago? He was married, his wife wasn't very nice to me. He had a baby, not quite the same age as Devon was. I don't remember if it was a boy or a girl. The baby was very dirty, and had dirty clothes on. He was different. Or perhaps I was different.

He was no longer JAMES. He was a guy who needed a shave, and a job, and needed to give his kid a bath.

I've always been amazed at how once you grow up, once you come out of that naievty that is childhood, you begin to see people for what they are. And suddenly, they don't hold the same appeal as they once did. I suppose that's good in a way, it's growing up, isn't it? But it's also sad, as well. It's like having your rose coloured glasses ripped off, only to reveal a very cold, bleak landscape.

headache

Well over the weekend I developed a very nasty migraine that I couldn't shake until late last night. It's been awhile since I've had one and I thought maybe I had kicked them altogether. Nope. I felt as if my head was being ripped open each time it throbbed. My wonderful husband came to the rescue though with some codeine/paracetamol pills I didn't think we still had, I took two, went to bed and woke up two hours later feeling just amazingly better. It's still there though, hanging around in the back of my head. I can feel it waiting to pounce. A few extra strength ibuproefen got me through the day, which included a business meeting and my appraisal.

I've been agonizing over this appraisal. *sigh* It's very dissapointing.


In other news, Rafe now says "uh oh". And today Olivia was rewarded with a chocolate bar in Netball club, for being "dynamite" and always working her socks off and trying very hard. She's also decided to go for basketball club instead of singing this term, and football club again. But what is becoming pretty standard for the guy in charge of the football team, he keeps promising her a permission slip and not producing it. Similar to what he pulled with my son when he tried for over a year to get onto the football team. (He still hasn't been given a place on the team)

The weather is much the same, cold, windy and rainy.

Pulling for Hillary, for some reason Obama just doesn't sit right with me, maybe because he is SO popular... if Clinton fails, than I'd like to see McCain pull ahead, despite his republicaness...

Ah Love...

Devon has his first crush. When he brought home a certificate from school for being the "most improved in behaviour", I knew something was up. The next he day he brought a Christmas present home, from Sian. A week later he asked if we could get her a diamond necklace for Christmas, "because she's always wanted one".

Yeah, well, me too kid. You buy your mother one first, ok?

He listens to her favorite music on repeat. I tell you that kid is GONE for her. It is so cute. He is only ten after all.

Olivia's arch nemesis, Brooke *please, say it with dripping disdain* has moved away over Christmas and she couldn't be happier. Brooke's sidekick, Kimberley has apparently "gotten used" to Olivia, now. BUT, there is a new girl at school, Lauren, who is very nice but who Ebonie says that Olivia can only play with on alternating days. My advice that she tell Ebonie to shove it was not gratefully received and so I told her she should tell Ebonie that she likes her very much and wants to be her friend, but that they can all play together, she doesnt think it's very nice of her to tell her who she can or can't play with. Which is the nice way of saying "Shove it, Ebonie."

Rafe continues to be a toddler, doing toddler things. He won't let us feed him any more, and is very particular about what he does eat. Fruit? No. Meat? No. Veg? No. Chocolate? Yes. Toast? Yes. At Grandma and Grandpa's he won't eat unless he's fed and it's on toast. No talking yet. We do get the occasional "Kitty" and "Mummmmm", sometimes he says "Da"

We've had a cold snap the last week. They were forcasting snow, but only Scotland and the Yorkshire area enjoyed the white stuff. We endured bitter temperatures, freezing wind, and plain old rain, down this way. I had to laugh when I went to wash my windshield at a gas station at 3:30 in the afternoon and found the squeegie was encased in a two inch thick block of frozen washer fluid.

And finally, we took the Christmas tree down last night. The poor thing had expired at somepoint in the week, despite daily watering, and everytime I brushed it, millions of pineneedles fell to the floor. A thoroughly depressing site.

Now, we ready the house for inspection in two weeks. *sigh* Renting Sucks.