#1346 Cuddling Mister F

This is my cat, Mister F.

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Baby girl will argue that he is her cat and he loves her more, but lets face it, if it weren’t for me being a cat person…

We wouldn’t even have a cat right now.

In the picture above, Mister F is being Tarzan, balancing the fence and weaving between the giant leaves of our neighbours fig tree.

He is hilariously clumsy. Moments before I snapped this photo he almost slipped off the fence – like, you are a cat. If you can’t balance on a fence, no one can!

I love his awkwardness. Amazingly what I am loving about him lately is his coat… rather, the cuddly coat.

Hubbie calls it his leather jacket. So black and shiny and smooth. He’s a medium hair so a fair bit of fur still finds its way wafting through our home… which I can’t stand, since I’m the one that cleans it.

But he’s sooo soft. Like today when he wandered into a room he wasn’t meant to go into, I scooped him up flat like a pancake (the way I used to do with my old cat) and hugged him against my chest as I carried him downstairs.

And Mister F? He was totally cool about being a pancake. He looked around curiously as I held him close to me in a hug, and didn’t try to escape even once.Β 

He lets us get away with almost anything… don’t feel sorry for him though… He has a butcher as an owner.

Sardines for dinner? His favourite ❀😻

#1286 Friday fun day

First on the agenda for mine and baby girl’s day off together?

Cuddle in bed under the covers. Ahhh. Because with all our early school starts we haven’t done that in ages.

After lots of laughter together, breakfast and brushing of teeth, it was time to…

Build LEGO.

It was this 6+ marine biology type set she got for her birthday, and she had been wanting to build it all week, and had waited pretty patiently all week… ’til today.

It took 1 and a half hours to build 3 of the 5 sections… and it still wasn’t done. We had an impromptu interval where we got up and danced to the ipod music, the sun streaming through the windows, encouraging Mister F near us and our bird outside, we’ll call him Orange-cheeks, to dance along. Mister F stared wide-eyed while Orange-cheeks did a kind of bob, and we just laughed.

The bigger fun came in the afternoon. After a quick coffee and babycino stop, dressed as Snow White as per her Book Week character from the day before, we went to the park.

Now it was sunny, but it was also, breezy. So cold, I ran to get our jackets from the car as she headed toward the monkey bars. Nice move Melbourne. Nice move.

Despite the cold, it was so good to be out. So close to the water. Amongst the grand old trees. Just reminded that soon, the weather will shift, adjust, and these park days will be more frequent and enjoyable.

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As she lay in bed tonight baby girl said “Mama, I had the best day ever with you.”

I smiled. “Me too honey.”

β™₯

#1256 Asleep in my arms

I sat on the couch after work, as Hubbie and I aired some grievances.

Not at each other… but at LIFE.

Baby girl was next to me. She wanted to sit as close to me as possible… then she wanted me to cover her with the throw that was draped around me. Soon we were sharing.

It seemed the more heated the conversation between Hubbie and I got, and the more frustrated we became with our topics, the closer she got to me. Soon she was asking to sit on my lap, and I pulled her on top of my crossed legs, covering us with the throw, as my blood continued to boil.

My anxiety rose. I felt I had to practice some deep breathing. All of my insides felt like they had been twisted up and left to untangle, and yet they weren’t… with every word and utterance I only grew more upset and frazzled, as baby girl hugged me and nuzzled her head into my chest.

I took a deep breath.

“She’s gonna fall asleep,” said Hubbie glancing at her.

“No she’s not,” I said dismissively. We kept talking… and as I held her in my arms, I suddenly realised.

She WAS asleep.

Her breathing was deep and ragged. She was totally stuffed. Two nights of school productions had taken it out of her. Here I was, all tense and crazy and mad, heaving up and down and getting shitty with everything… and meanwhile baby girl had not minded.

Had not minded one bit.

She had come up close, for love, for comfort, for my heartbeat… and had fallen asleep in seconds.

I was forced to think. Be present. Breathe more calmly. Hubbie left the room, and I hugged her back. Breathed her in. Remembered when she was a baby, and used to fall asleep on me sometimes, when we were on the couch… oh that’s right, that very couch.

I started to relax. I realised I had never thought she would fall asleep on me again. She was bigger after all. 5 going on 16 as I sometimes say. And yet here she was, loving me, and giving me exactly what I needed, even though I didn’t realise it at the time.

Time out. A chance to step back. Reassess. Most importantly, appreciate the beautiful moment.

I rested my head on hers for a bit and almost fell asleep myself. My hands lay on her school uniform. Her pony tail coming loose and stretched out in front of me.

And I was happy to just BE, with her. β™₯

#1247 When Hubbie comes home

You know when you have one of those ‘days?’

I feel like I have been having one of those ‘days’ for about 108 hours straight now.

Yes I slept in. But it was only because baby girl is still sick, and therefore had to miss out on her first day back at school.

Now I have a headache. I am getting sick.

And these endlessly rainy, windy and dreary days are getting me down soooo badly.

I need some genuine, bona fide, sunlight. β˜€

And then this evening, Hubbie came home from work. πŸ™πŸ™ŒπŸ˜€

And you know how they say a change is as good as a holiday?

Well he coming home… same difference.

You just need someone to help lift the mood.

A group, family hug.

You need to feel love. πŸ’Ÿ

 

#1240 Kiss-fest

I’m really enjoying watching baby girl grow and develop into a young girl. It gets me all misty-eyed MANY times, but what I am enjoying most of all, is also our relationship growing and developing.

I’m finding lately we are really laughing together more. I become her equal in those moments, and she mine, and we end up cacking over something totally hilarious or totally trivial, doubled over in laughter…

It can be us playing dolls and Mister F will walk past, and I act out the dolls – “Argh! A black and white monster!”

Or she’ll be sooking about something silly and I pull a weird/funny face, and she can’t help but laugh and pull one back, and then I do it again, and etc until we are totally losing it.

Or like tonight. She does this thing every so often at bedtime, and it is part a delay mechanism, part because she is so affectionate. But she will grab me as I am kissing her goodnight, her arms firmly around my neck holding me close, as she counts –

“1!” and then plants a kiss on my cheek.

“2!” Kiss!

“3!” Kiss!

“4!” Kiss!

“5!” Kiss!

“6!” Kiss!

“7!” Kiss!

“8!” Kiss!

“9!” Kiss!

And then yells out “10!” before blowing a massive rapsberry on my cheek.

I always brace for impact, but let her do it anyway… she has a ball. Tonight however, she got up to 10… and kept going.

“11!'” Kiss!

“12!” Kiss!

Each time she pulled back to count further I pulled a confused, exaggerated expression. Her counts became incoherent as she burst into laughter, so that at 17 I was like “what number are you even up to?”

She kept kissing me in hysterics as she counted something in a muddle, and I fell onto her laughing and trying hard to breathe normally.

Ahhh. It’s in these moments I let go of everything.

I let go of trying to make everything right.

I let go of being the parent.

I let go of rules.

I let go of routine and order.

I let go of worries.

I let go of the past.

I let go of what ‘should be.’

I let go of all those knots within me, and in the tremors of laughter vibrating off me, they untie and go loose, and waves of happiness and love pour out.

It is magical.

She counted up to 25, somehow… my cheek was wet… and then she yelled “10!”

And I got my raspberry. Though my insides were fuzzy too, not just my cheek. πŸ™‚ β™₯

 

#1222 Proud daughter

“Is she your Mum?” The red-headed kid asked me.

I laughed. “She can’t be my Mum!” I teased.

I was helping out in baby girl’s class this morning. Assisting one of the table’s as the kids tried to put into words the new ideas they had learnt just that morning… successfully helping some… yet failing miserably with others, as they literally draped themselves over chairs moaning “I don’t know what to dooooooooooo.”

Ah, kids. You just gotta… yeah. Let’s leave it there.

I was crouching between baby girl and another boy on the table when the almost red-headed kid asked me that: I knew what he had meant – he had meant to ask if I was baby girl’s Mum, not the other way around.

After my gentle joke back, baby girl nodded at him solemnly. Then proceeded to reach over and protectively give me a hug.

Awww. My heart.

She was proud. She IS proud.

I was proud. I AM PROUD. πŸ™‚ β™₯β™₯β™₯β™₯