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From Missing Little To Kissing Little

Week 75

According to the book this blog has been inspired by, we are at the end of our journey.

From here on in, you’re on your own kiddo, it seems to say.

So again the question is, do I continue writing the scribbles of our world, or do I stop with the rhyming, reformat, and reinvent this text with all its spelling mistakes, grammatical errors, crappy syntax, mixtures of tense, chaotic narratives, and stream of consciousness what the hell am I actually trying to says into something more grown up.

Am I grown up?

The truth of the matter is I am still flying by the seat of my skinny jeans.

Emily daddy and I are making this shit up as we go along.

I mean just because she is bigger, does not mean the ride is any smoother.

I wonder how big girl writers do it.

How do they make the bumpy roller coaster of parenthood so smooth and pretty?

I try to tell myself I am not the only pretend blogger whose work is full of mistakes.

Am I?

Oh God, what if I am?

It is Sunday morning and I am stuck in bed.

My right knee is seventeen times larger than my left, due to an as yet unnamed injury caused by wearing the moonboot on my left leg for so long, and walking so ridiculously far.

I’m not surprised it has come to this.

Well I am, because I thought this type of thing would only happen to someone else.

But here I am.

Emily and Michael are playing downstairs, and I have no option but to stay here for the day and keep my weight off it.

I tried to play with Little yesterday, but by the end of the day, I could not walk at all.

I am afraid of the serious of this injury.

Sure, I can work through a broken bone or two, especially in somewhere as remote as my feet. But a possible torn ligament in my knee, now that is another kettle of fish I cannot deal with.

I want to deal with.

But I cannot.

This has stopped me hard and fast in my tracks.

This I am not sure I can work through.

This is my body screaming at me even more loudly to find a new direction.

This is far more invasive.

This is forcing me to listen.

I have nothing but my keyboard for company, so this could be a long one.

Monday saw mummy at work in her sideways job.

Imagine my slight irritation when I left to go home that it took me sixteen minutes instead of the record breaking nine to reach our gate.

If I weren’t so risk averse, I would probably give up my old job completely in favour of this one just because of the proximity to my dwelling.

However, at the moment I have managed to increase my hours, but when a girl evens it all out, I am actually making less per hour on average than I was making before.

Hello depressing realisation.

But I try not to think about that.

Michael has his hopes pinned on my making it somehow work, so that is what I will do.

Every time I complain about where we are financially, he tells me we are fine.

This is not fine I retort.

This is well and truly below the poverty line.

This is barely surviving.

But still I don’t know how to reach him.

How do I make him see I am at the end of my pretty pink rope?

How do I make him see we really need to examine things together?

I feel like we are on separate pages within the bankbook.

I know if we can combine our genius for good instead of broke, big things will happen.

Some mornings he will tell me what he is going to do for the day, and I think to myself, oh darling that is wonderful, but I bet it won’t happen.

Because I know the routine.

I know he will most likely go shopping and spend money while Emily is asleep, rather than stay at home and help us make money by working on the business.

However he doesn’t see it that way.

He doesn’t see groceries as a drain.

I try to tell him he doesn’t need to buy chicken drumsticks every time they are on special, because trust me, they will be on special again.

But he can’t seem to help himself.

So with that in mind, I don’t even contemplate buying myself a pair of sunglasses to cut down on the glare, because my either or mentality which is reflected in my current state of prosperity will not allow for such extravagances.

As it is I am having a heart attack over buying Emily some braille flash cards so I can teach her shapes, even though the money will come from her account.

I mean shouldn’t I be keeping that aside?

I go to the website, look, pop them in my cart, then close it down.

I feel as though I am swirling out of control.

Emily’s favourite word for the week is up.

Up up up up up.

Everything is up.

Even down is up on occasion.

This has resulted in Michael and I spending a lovely Saturday afternoon coming up with all the ways up can be used within the English language.

Throwing up, closing up, stuffing up, turning up, rolling up, shining up, speeding up, slowing up…

I am way better at this game than he is.

We used to play a lot of word games before we had Emily.

Now we’re too tired for anything.

Therefore it was nice to be reminded.

Thanks baby girl for the inspiration.

Tuesday we once again went with Emily’s best friend Ronya and her mummy Seyrin to the other playgroup.

Once again people were a little friendlier than they had been the week before, but still we mostly kept to ourselves.

Emily didn’t hold my hand as much, but whether that be because she spent way more time having me push her around in a car, just as I had done the afternoon previously up and down our front path, or whether it was because she holds my hand less these days, I can’t be sure.

Morning tea proved a challenge as fairy bread was served.

We don’t allow Emily anything like that yet.

So I spent the entire time trying to get to whatever crumbs my little vacuum cleaner was after before her.

That is the problem with these group things.

I never quite know what is on her plate, let alone someone else’s.

Seyrin is good, but she is a little more relaxed than I am with that type of thing.

The experience made me feel as though I am unable to take care of Little in the way I would like.

I am fairly certain she didn’t get a hold of that sweet sugary treat, but at the same time, I didn’t feel like I had any influence either.

At one point a mamma absent-minded put her coffee cup down on the table next to us, but she didn’t say anything.

How we didn’t knock it over I will never know.

It wasn’t until she came back and realised, that I even knew it was there.

I was mortified, as it was within Emily’s reach and I didn’t know.

I am supposed to know!

How can I protect her from the things I cannot see?

When it came time to singing and dancing, Emily took herself to the furthest point of the room away from the music and sat quietly.

She seems to prefer that we sing our songs alone.

When we arrived home sweetie pie was ready for bed.

She slept for almost three hours.

Which just goes to show, a mamma can’t pick it.

Wednesday saw everyone up early and ready to go.

Michael was on a mission to finally finally come off his P plates and earn his black license, and Emily and I were due at playgroup by 9:30AM.

Yes, we do playgroup twice a week now.

We would go more if I didn’t have to work.

But Wednesday was the first day we were going to make the entire round trip on our own.

I was so excited.

Emily was chomping at the bit, so we left a little more ill preparedly than I would have liked.

But admittedly it did serve me right for suggesting we go before I was really ready.

We made it there and back without incident, and the whole thing was a pleasure.

Emily was relaxed, I was relaxed, the other mammas were relaxed, and everyone had a good time.

The sun Shon, so we spent all our time outdoors.

By the way, it just confirms what I always suspected.

Emily needs a sandpit.

Because yes, yes that is where she spent most of her time. As in two hours type time. In the sandpit while I stood in another part of the yard chatting like a normal person.

I was so proud of my girl for not needing me.

Occasionally she would swing by for a cuddle, but only if I called her and said Emily, I am here if you want me.

But otherwise I didn’t see her for the entire session.

After we arrived home there was no way she was going to have a nap.

So once again, we put her in her cot, and prepared the shell pool with luke warm water.

However this time we took it up a notch, and positioned her climbing frame in such a way that the slippery dip landed in the shell pool.

Emily wasn’t nearly as impressed with it as mummy was.

However she still had fun.

I would have been content to let her roam around naked all afternoon, but daddy wanted her to have clothes on.

By 4:00Pm they were at the park.

By 5:00PM we were in the bath.

5:30 dinner, and 6:00PM she was out like a light.

Thursday was another quiet day at work, so I simply didn’t go.

However Emily and Michael took a drive to grandmas for lunch, thereby leaving me to some much-needed silence.

At least that is what I thought I needed. However I spent the entire day missing them.

I had great plans for productivity, but they didn’t unfold the way I hoped.

Although I did have a pretty good conversation with my friends Dave and Liz respectively.

Usually after Emily comes home from grandmas she is chatty.

However all that wondering around grandma’s house must have worn her out, because she didn’t say much that night as we sat in the rocking chair.

I know she saw grandma’s bath, bed, and chair, because she told me.

She also saw birds, played with pegs, ate berries, and according to Michael stumbled across the mother lode when she realised grandma’s kitchen cupboards weren’t locked like ours are.

By the way, nice sharing grandpa.

Friday I was unusually busy at work.

However by the time I left on late Friday afternoon, my right knee was the size of a balloon.

I could barely get down the stairs at our local train station, and whatever pinged in the posterior part of said joint as I staggered down the ramp hasn’t forgiven me yet.

This meant that on Saturday I was supposed to rest.

However it is difficult to rest with a toddler.

Which then leads us back to where I am.

Stuck stuck stuck stuck stuck.

I can hear Little’s happy tones in the yard below.

Michael is sipping his coffee.

The sun is out, and it is a great day.

No doubt they will get cabin fever soon enough and go find a playground to amuse themselves within.

But for now, I will contend with loving their company in the background.

I have the best family ever!

I mean I can’t complain.

Now Little has learned to kiss, she comes up almost every hour on the hour and then some to give me a kiss.

Published inThe Blunder Weeks

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