Yesterday I didn’t get dressed and I didn’t leave the house. In fact I barely moved from room to room. Out of the four of us, Mr B was the only one to don “day clothes” as Scout calls them, or to walk out the front door (to get coffees in the morning and later, to get ingredients to cook dinner).
We are just back from a little mini-break in Warrnambool, where Mr B had a meeting on Friday, and Scout was so excited you’d swear we were going to Paris. The second she woke up on Thursday she demanded “Is this the day we go to Warrnambool?” from her cot, and practically vibrated through the rest of the day until it was time to leave.
We picked Mr B up from work and headed out into the night, Scout quivering and chattering and singing the ENTIRE TIME. I do not think she drew breath from Richmond until the moment we pulled up in front of the hotel overlooking the beach. And not even then. At one point she had me singing Christmas carols for her in the car, and then she treated us to a Christmas carol-esque rendition of Humpty Dumpty, as Ralph snored softly and Mr B peered over the steering wheel into driving rain in the dark, momentarily blinded every time a car came towards us.
We didn’t do all that much on our break, to be honest. It rained a lot of the time and, when it wasn’t raining, the sea wind was FIERCE. Ralph and I were both coming down with a bit of a cold, so we all took it easy and stayed as warm as we could, only venturing into the bracing air for short periods. But it was still lovely to get out of town, to explore (briefly) somewhere new, and to be together. The children were divine, beautifully behaved, and it must be wonderful to be of an age when calling room service and tasting Coco Pops for the first time can truly transport you.
On the down-side, I barely slept a wink while we were away, with all four of us crammed into a room, Ralph snoring through his cold, and moonbeams not-so-romantically piercing my eyelids from an un-dressed skylight. Then last night our neighbour hosted a party, and everyone is allowed to host parties and it was Saturday night and he’s a lovely, considerate neighbour, but last night when I so badly needed to sleep, I lay awake instead listening to a bizarre remix of Britney Spears singing “Oops I did it again” to a duf-duf beat pound from the courtyard just below our bedroom window, accompanied by the conversations and laughter and (as the night went on) singing of a big crowd of happy people.
By 1.30am when I hadn’t slept yet and was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired (and jealous of my neighbour and his guests and the carefree life I used to lead even though I wouldn’t change things - I really wouldn’t!), I came downstairs to the couch, further away from the party, to try once more for that elusive sleep. I found it at last, and grabbed about four hours before it was time to get up for the kids all over again.
Which is a long way to lead up to the not-particularly-interesting news that not surprisingly, I woke up this morning with my cold fully realised, feeling stuffy and crabby and woozy and lethargic. And now we finally get to the point, which is: I spent the entire day in my pyjamas. Blocked sinuses notwithstanding, it was actually a wonderful way to close out autumn, filled with nothing much except craft and cuddles and giggles and train sets and makeovers-by-toddlers and stories and love.
So here we are. Back to work today. I’ve been absent from this blog for a few weeks and I’ve been dying to tell you about all the creative projects on the go right now, but that will just have to wait until I have more energy to share. In the meantime, here are some cosy links to welcome Monday and winter.