Bleh

Yes I know, I've been a bit absent. Sorry.

I've had a post drifting around my head these past couple of weeks, something about how I am not managing that whole life-work balance thing very well, but even not fully coalesced it didn't seem to be going anywhere other than a big boring whinge.

My current work project is stressing me, I've been sick since my birthday, I'm tired all the time, I don't have time to do lots of things I'd like to do, my kids never listen to me the first time I say something, my husband isn't always home, household chores are tedious, oh woe is me.

Really, you should be thanking me for not writing a longer version of all that.

So anyway, I'm coming out of the funk but am still not very inspired and so escaping into books every evening rather than, you know, actually doing any of those things I'd like to do when the kids are in bed and my husband's not here.

I'm off to Hogwarts ... hope to have something to say soon.

Five

There he is, my lanky boy, running ahead, riding his bike, riding his scooter, walking up a mountain.

There he is again, cornering some poor adult, happily chatting about anything, nothing, everything.

Now he's helping me to cook, helping with the shopping, setting the table, clearing away his plate.

Or helping Lukan to take off his jacket or shoes, to find a toy, to make something work.

Suddenly he bursts into song, something he's learnt at school or his music class.

Then he's playing a game, properly, one with rules and winners and losers.

And in between all this, he still asks for hugs, comes into bed for a morning cuddle, holds my hand, races to me when he gets out of school (although a good-bye kiss when I drop him off is getting rarer...). He still thinks I know everything, still wants to tell me things. Same with his papa.

He's delighted to see all his extended family.

He's delighted to spend time with our friends.

I have a feeling that five is going to be the best year ever.

Except, he could quit pretending to fart on us. And really farting on us.

Please.

Observations from yesterday

At a workshop, where the participants are likely to want to talk to one another over lunch, spaghetti is a bit of a cruel choice for the caterers to have made.

Wearing a G string back-to-front is quite unpleasant.

Having an ear infection is worse.