Best day of my life…

My 4 year old wants to be 5 so bad that he’s convinced himself that he is 5. His birthday is still nearly weeks away but it’s soon.

The other day after being asked 173 times I told him that we will make cupcakes again soon. He told me off and said “Don’t say soon. When you say that you mean not for a long time”.

He doesn’t understand the word tomorrow and prefers to use the term “next day”.

The concept of time seems to go over his head, or around his legs or something similar.

But today I heard him say that it was “the best day of his life”.

This is the third time this year that he has commented that he’s had the best day of his life.

The first was when he was having a mud fight with his 6 year old brother in his undies.

The second time was his first day at the snow. Up and down the tiny man made slope he went with his toboggan.

And today he was blowing bubbles outside in the sunshine with his brother before they abandoned that idea and turned it into a massive water fight.

There seems to be an outdoors with his brother theme.

There is also an acknowledgement of the fact that he is having a wonderful time.

I don’t think we as adults do that enough.

Maybe we’re too busy worrying about the next thing we need to do or how to wash the mud off the kids.

Maybe it’s when we take pictures and post them to Instagram with 🙂 hashtags.

And maybe it’s hearing our kids say that they’re having the “best day ever”.

Glad to be me…

It’s raining today.

I’ve made my breakfast and I’m back in bed.

My boys are debating the best way to kill zombies. I don’t understand them. They make me laugh.

Another good week for me makes me realise how lucky I am.

I’m ready to hear the good things now. I’m ready to go out again. I’m ready to be your friend if you still want me. I’m ready to laugh.

I’M READY TO CREATIVE DANCE.

(You’ve been warned!)

Mental health is a strange thing. It goes up and down less like a yoyo and more like the pirate ship ride at Sea World.

It can make you feel ill and find you with your hands on your knees after the ride trying not to vomit.

The sun is hiding today but I don’t need it. I’m shining on the inside.

Oh goodness me (or insert something stronger there if you wish) I sound preachy and syrupy today. Pollyanna would be proud.

I’m going to find the things that make me glad today and look for rainbows and hug the trees and then I’m going to have a double espresso and slap myself across the face with a fish and wait for the real sarcastic grumpy me to come back.

I’ve missed her.

Here comes the sun…

There are certain spots in my house that catch the sun on its way down.

Sometimes it lands half way up the wall in the hallway as it comes through my boys open window.

Maybe I’ll find it sitting on the top of the couch in the lounge room surrounded by cat.

And at about 4pm it settles briefly on the end of my bed and I move my pillow to the other end of the bed and revel in it.

It doesn’t cost anything. This little moment of warmth and joy and life.

It just seeks me out and makes me feel whole for a little while.

My headspace is not clear at the moment. It’s not really up for having visitors.

The parking is terrible and the service is shocking.

I myself am avoiding it like the plague.

I feel like something is wrong and I don’t know what it is. I’m in a constant state of befuddlement.

Hopefully it passes soon and I’ll be able to relate to myself again.

But for now I’m stuck at the end of my bed imbibing some sun.

Grey sky simplicity…

It’s 2:30 in the afternoon and I’m in bed with a hot cuppa and my book.

I’m watching and listening to the rain pour down outside. I love how it comes in bursts.

It tapers off for a minute or so then comes pouring down again.

There are raindrops hanging from the gutters, shimmering on the overhead wires running to the house and sitting on top of the leaves.

It’s all so shiny.

I’m tempted to go the car and take my new spotted umbrella for a spin.

Dance in the rain.

Get wet.

Then have a hot shower to warm up and another cuppa before getting back into bed.

There are so many choices.

The washing on the line is now wetter than when I hung it out.

That’s not important.

I’m important. Enjoying the little moments are important.

Smiling like an idiot when no one is watching just because I’m happy.

Snuggling further under the covers.

Marzipan chocolate in the top drawer.

A grey sky with sunshine.

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