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Meandering reflections

Posted by on April 11, 2010

When all is quiet in my house I feel strangely removed.  It’s like I have gone back in time to a life before I got married and had kids, a life where I lived alone and did what I wanted when I wanted.  I always treasure these brief moments alone, where no one can ask me questions, no nappies to change, no one can drag me off to do a jigsaw puzzle or, the proper heart-sinker, painting (if you haven’t experienced the mess this can cause then you will think I”m a miserable old cow).

I always think I want more sleep, more time to rest in oblivion.  But it’s times like this, when my toddler and her Daddy have gone swimming and my baby is asleep that I realise sometimes all I need is a bit of time to myself, to have a cup of tea, consider the world and just look out of the window.  Oh and of course drop a blog.

I am so happy that we moved.  I miss some aspects of London, my local Mummy friends mainly.  But they have come to visit us here, and what I get in return is so much more.

We drove down to Brighton on Friday.  Completely spontaneous, which with two small children is not often a word I’ll use in relation to my daily life.  But my husband was about and we thought why the hell not. It was a beautiful sunny day, we played on the beach, had fish and chips, got hit on the head a couple times by stray volley balls (me not the kids thankfully), and my husband the hero rescued a Jack Russell puppy from a pitball.  As you do on a day out in Brighton.

Aside from that little episode, it was invigorating to be somewhere so busy, Brighton has a ‘vibe’ you can’t quite put your finger on.  But it worked for us on Friday. And nothing beats hearing your children laugh.

Then yesterday when he was off doing man things (football related clearly), I went to a beautiful National Trust house with my Dad and Stepmother.  The toddler adores her Grandpa.  He’s always been a brilliant father, but now he’s being a truly wonderful Grandpa (although he has become known as Grandpa Pig, for his ability to always have the right tool to get the job done, and yes this does make my husband Daddy Pig, for his ability to never have the right tool to get the job done).

We went back to their house for lunch,  and then the toddler had fun playing with toy tractors and a one-armed plastic farmer and other farming paraphenalia in the vegetable garden.  And no my Dad’s not a farmer, he was a Dentist, but he has an amazing collection of miniature farm buildings he built himself and tractors and so on that we all used to play with as children (three girls, no dollies for us, give us a tractor any day).

The point is if we still lived in London these two wonderful days would not have been so easy.  It would have been a proper military organisation job.  It would have involved synchronising sleeps and meal times and all that.  It would, invariably, have involved arguments.

But as it happens we had two perfect days.  The girls really had fun.  The baby is starting to make her preferences known, and it’s the most wonderful thing to see the two of them play together.

The baby absolutely adores her big sister, she smiles broadly whenever she cuddles her.  I must try to capture some of this on film, it’s something I so want to remember. (My Iphone is currently out of action after I dropped it so am awaiting it’s replacement anxiously)

Anyway the baby is stirring.  I’ve had my cup of tea, time of quiet reflection and written it all down.  I hope you don’t mind me sharing it all with you.

Little Film Club link still live below.

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