Tag: summer (Page 1 of 6)
Something that I want to remember is lying in the hammock for an hour with Small Z this morning at about 10am in the sun. I dozed and mused, while she dozed and breastfed. It balmed both our busy souls. There were minimal mosquitos and many birds. The sun was warm and the breeze cool. We swung gently and snuggled.
Today was declared a stay at home day. I remember reading in some parenting or baby book that you occasionally need to have ‘pyjama days’ where you give yourself permission to sloth around and do little. That is how we greeted the first day of summer. Small Z and I were happy to not get into the car and go anywhere, which was a relief – we’d been in the city on Friday, driven to Mornington on Saturday and to Loch on Sunday.
I am looking back on the blog to where we were a year ago – Small Z was crawling around the trailer, chubbier and tinier than she is now. She said ‘baa’ a lot. This time next year I cannot even fathom where we will be, and what the almost three-year-old (!?!) will be like. Probably less like a lamb, and that’s as far as my brain will take me.
Days like today give the the opportunity to realise how we are both evolving. I hope I am becoming more patient and less inclined to lock horns with Small Z – time has taught me that this brings no good outcomes. I am appreciating her in different ways – we have a lot of fun hanging out together. I enjoy her and her sense of humour – she is cheeky, quirky and effortlessly gleeful.
She narrates our process through the day. “Zoezy goes up. Climbing. Climbs. Good one Fat Controller! Now James. Where’s James? And Thomas? Ahhhhh. Annie and Clar-a-bel. Mama get playdough? Roll it flat? Sit on the couch, ouch? Play tigers?” This is just a sample of what comes out of her mouth for the entire day and does not include her regular requests for booby or for me to ‘gwab’ her. “Mama gwab Zoezy?” Meaning – pick me up RIGHT now. Please. Of course, there are times of repose…
At the moment she loves numbers, rhyming and moons. This afternoon we read a book about a bear who gets a yellow balloon with a moonface, and flies up to visit the moon while holding on to the balloon string. “Read it again?!” begged Small Z. She was so thrilled to go outside later that night and see a huge full moon hanging over the back fence. “Hello MOOOOON! Night NIGHT MOOOOON.”
We were discussing smells. “What does Mama smell like?” I asked tentatively.
She didn’t pause. “Like porridge.”
I digested this. “And Dadda? What does he smell like?”
“Egg. With cream in it.”
[Sometimes we make ‘special’ scrambled eggs with cream.}
“What does Zoe smell like?”
A beat. “Chicken…and Fat Controller.”
A day that began with me going on a solo bike ride. Down the street. To get some milk and go to the chemist. Most of you won’t find this at all intriguing. But for me, being able to take off, on my own, and ride to SOMETHING that is not the park, the pier or the one shop, left me almost breathless with possibility. Or at least with a feeling of freedom – it felt like I hadn’t had that sort of feeling for a long while.
This is how people must feel when they move from a small, slightly isolated locality? The thing about all the places M and I have lived over the past five years (- or is it SEVEN? Now I come to ponder it…) we have never lived anywhere we have intended to stay for long. In Hervey Bay, it was always…’when the house is finished’…and now it is… ‘and when the catamaran is finished’. There is always a longer goal.
Of course, the longer goal is actually somewhere where we would really like to live for a good long while. Get a black faced sheep. Some chooks. You know, after we, um, win lotto or something. But anyway, for the meantime, Hastings is ringing my bells. The house moving has receded and my fatigue is improving. (Have I mentioned that that other January 2010 venture included nightweaning Small Z for the FINAL time? It was hard, but is now a total blessing.)
Today was our best day so far. My morning bike ride was followed by some noodling around the house, some cleaning, M and Small Z in the garden putting up Oomoo’s sail, and then being visited by Mr and Master H for lunch. We then headed back to Somers beach, all in my car. Master H commented, while settling himself into the back next to Small Z and I;
“This car is very 1980s!”
So sage for an eight year old. I was delighted to inform him it was a 1981 model. Mr H’s head fitted fetchingly out of the sunroof. It was all good. Somers beach was a hit, the water was warm and our beach tent solid. M brought down the canoe/kayak thingy and took Small Z out on it (this is her most favourite thing to do since she has been two. Then we got to watch Mr and Master H cavort with the kayak thing in the waves, while rubbing life back into Small Z’s cold little body…
We headed home to passionfruit gelati and cups of tea. If I could press repeat on the whole day, I would.