#1025 That he also had a tough day

It may seem awfully cruel and mean-spirited for me to be happy, grateful even, that today, Hubbie had a trying day with baby girl.

But you really need to see it in context.

A couple of days ago I was sitting at the dinner table, my head in my hands, telling him how I wanted to rip my hair out!

Baby girl was in a weird way lately. Talking back constantly. Arguing at my every request. Putting up a fight for any little thing possible. It was insane. I didn’t want to let her get away with it, so it meant me constantly telling her what she was saying or doing was wrong or not nice, and this in itself created more of a cycle of stress!

He chuckled to himself while watching me.

“You think this is funny? I’ll ask you on Wednesday if you think it’s so funny. GOOD LUCK.”

It wasn’t a wish. It was a challenge.

Today, Wednesday, I got home from work – LATE. I had had to make a stop on the way home, and leaving so much later meant I was on the Monash freeway later…. and I crawled, I swear, for the entire stretch of freeway. I had left the city at 5:10, and I got home before 7pm.

ARGH.

But I was happy. I was home. The sun was out. I moved towards the front door, and as I turned the corner –

swoosh! a butterfly had been hanging around on our fly screen door, and as I came closer it flew off, almost colliding with my face.

It gave me such a shock, and rattled my nerves so much, that it took me several minutes to calm the fuck down still my beating heart.

Inside, I went to give baby girl a kiss. As I leaned down to kiss her head, she went all baby girl on me, and jumped excitedly…

OUCH! Her head hit my lip, and the pain seared all over.

I stomped upstairs, to find a red bruise on my lips.

Great. Just fucking great.

I was now seriously peeved. I had come home, wanting respite from the mammoth traffic jam that had been my route home, and instead was assaulted by winged insects and young girls. I may as well have stayed at work.

Instead I sat down with Hubbie and baby girl to eat. He had made pan-fried chips with our dinner, as I had requested last night. This made me happy, as when I said it I hadn’t seriously expected him to do it – but he did. We ate in silence, as he was breathing heavily with his own shit weighing upon him, and I had my own reasons as to why I was major cranky-pants – and then there was baby girl in between us, chowing down on her pasta.

Once enough food had gone into us, we started to open up, and talk…

And he began to tell me all the ways in which she had been difficult that day.

Arguing at the park. Falling over. Crying. Having it her way – ALL DAY. Making him buy her stuff. Squirting him with water when they washed the car. Insisting she went out to ride her bike in the maximum heat of the day at 5pm.

He said he had gained 10 grey hairs just that day.

“Ha!” I exclaimed. “And you were laughing at me days ago? Now do you see why I am the way I am???”

He didn’t say a word, instead a small grin coming onto his face. He knew I was right.

“Sorry, but not sorry…. suffer in your jocks.”

And though the most juvenile thing to say, it was actually the most fitting and he took it well… after all, the hose had gone in that direction.

(And then we proceeded through all the nagging talk to still bestow upon baby girl a million kisses by bedtime 🙂 She always wins.)

#1004 Couch time with the family no. 2

Uh oh. It’s becoming a thing now. Having the word ‘couch’ in a post heading with a number following it, makes me feel a bit lazy and guilty that I should be so happy about sitting on the couch.

But I need to put things in perspective.

Yesterday I was ill while on the couch. Because of that I spent the whole day doing ‘nothing.’ I was tired, hot, felt deflated, and actually couldn’t wait for the day to be over with. I wanted to fast forward to night-time and go to sleep already. That from a glass half-full gal.

The only way to move past it was to say goodbye to it.

But today? Today I was more than happy to sit on the couch… healthy… with my family… after I had been away at work.

With a glass of red.

Some ice cream.

Baby girl’s head resting on my lap.

As we watched The Bachelorette 😉

And it was the nicest moment ever. Things generally are amazing though, when you are feeling better again…

#996 Public holiday cleaning

I love this quote:

dullwomen

I always have, maybe because it speaks to me so personally. I am not saying my house is filth, but I don’t stress out about cleaning. I don’t work out my days according to it. It’s dust here, mop there (now mopping I do get excited about now!) and rather, I fit cleaning in and around my schedule, rather than me fitting my life around cleaning.

I figure, I have better things to do. Things will always get done, and in the end, who the hell cares? Like really, do I primarily want to be known on this earth, for how freaking well my house was cleaned? If people are entering my house and judging the traces of dust present, well I may just have to judge the traces of stupidity in their heads.

Having said all that… I do appreciate, a good, deep clean.

Every so often it happens, and it’s like “get out of my way people! I am on a mission!”

And let’s face it… there’s no greater motivator than knowing there will be 40ish people in your house on the weekend.

:/

And so, on this Melbourne Cup public holiday, I got cracking. Well, we did. After Hubbie got home from work earlier today, we both set to it…

While others were walking through the rain for the horses, still others were on their couches, others at parks, and maybe others more so at the pub, Hubbie was whipper-snippering and then mowing our huge expanse of grass (and you only realise how big it is when you go to tend to it) while I did all manner of jobs inside the house.

We felt accomplished, and good. We still have a long while yet. But I know when we are done I will happily take in ALL the people 🙂

 

#993 Throwback coffee

Months ago I went off my usual Saturday work coffee place.

That’s partly to do with

a) their cappuccinos becoming terribly inconsistent, and

b) tagging along with my colleague who went to another cafe… whose coffee was far superior.

I didn’t go back to my old haunt ‘til today.

I was on that side of the road, rather than the ‘across the road,’ opposition’s side, and thought –

“What the hell.”

(Also I didn’t want my old haunt to see me walk past and cross the road to the other cafe).

The lady remembered me. Still I got a medium. Still it was $4.00.

And as I walked back, holding this heavy full to the rim coffee, I took in a sip…

And it was MAGNIFICENT.

In fact it was so good, to the point that when I got back to my desk, the coffee strength and flavour made me all jittery and weak in its caffeinated fabulousness.

Coffee so great, it altered me. It moved me.

Back to the old haunt it is… ☕️☕️☕️

#990 Wednesday family time

Hubbie hates how I work Wednesdays. Like HATES. He hates it in bold, hates it underlined, hates it italicised, any which way you can highlight it, he does it…

He hates my working Wednesdays.

I joke he will hate them in a different way when I am not working next year and suddenly he will be hating the non-money I bring in, ha ha.

But seriously, I do get it.

He is home, and he can’t even look forward to his middle of the week day off with baby girl and I. Because there is no ‘I.’ ‘I’ am at work.

I’ve had to get away to work earlier for many weeks now, meaning the usual go-to-work late time of 1:30pm has been pulled even further back to 11am.

We couldn’t even go and do stuff in the mornings together. I got up, ate and got ready, and left.

Today however was exciting. For the first time in what feels like yonks, I was able to leave at 1:30pm. And we crammed soooo much in.

It felt like the longest and sweetest morning, in fact my time with my family was a day all in itself, that’s how much we did. What made it better was the dress I happened across (which is fabulous I might add), and also our family coffee date:

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You know what Hubbie said about it?

“I feel like I’m on holiday.”

And if that is coming out of his mouth on a Wednesday, well then I know we have made it a pretty good one.

#989 The f*&king application

I sat at my desk today, trying to write.

Here is my desk:

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Hold on. Let’s take a closer look, shall we…

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Yep. It was that kind of day.

I had held off on a to-do list item for a while now. And it wasn’t just ANY to-do list item. It was a writing one, one that involved applying for a writing course that I was hoping to put concerted effort into if approved – not only because it was a long-held passion of mine, but because I had to find something to do next year when my 11-year job came to a halt.

In applying for this course, I had to write a cover letter detailing the stage and progress of my novel, as well as include 1500 words of prose.

But, what would I write?

“Uh, so I wrote this book, about 20,000 words too long. And then I sent it out to agents with no luck, so I kept re-writing, and then I got it down (slightly), but then by that stage I had a baby.

I totally went off the ‘pitching book to agent phase’ because you know, said BABY and all, and then found another avenue to express my love of writing – in blogging.

And you know blogging is sooo much easier. No one is there correcting my work or telling me I can’t get published. I write what I like, and when I hit post, the whole world gets to see what I’ve written, whether they like it or not, think it is smart or not, and whether they agree with me or not.

But I really need to get my head out of the sand and start doing something with my novel, hence why I am here. SO. PLEASE. HELP. Accept me into this course before I start yet another blog.”

Or, something like that. Like, how could I actually put into words the last 6 years of my writing life?

I did my damn best. I put something together, I was honest, I added the words “cringe” (because I really was cringing as I put it all together) and prayed that it would be received well.

How horrible would it be to actually be rejected for a writing course? Like can you imagine… you want to pay someone a considerable amount of money to teach you stuff, and they go “no sorry, we don’t want you to pay us.”

Shudder.

To their benefit, the programme wants to make sure that the level you are writing at is best suited to their course, or else they can suggest something else for you. They don’t want to waste your money, which is actually admirable.

Still, I need help. And today I was so glad and grateful that I finally got around to writing those few pesky letters and emails I was putting off for so long, because I couldn’t actually put down in words, what I had been doing with words, all these years.

But I got there… and I hope that I actually, get there.

#985 Not just any Friday

It may have been just an ordinary day today for most people. But it wasn’t for us.

And sure, Fridays are a hell of a lot more fun that all of those earlier weekdays, and yet, it still had special significance beyond being that fun ‘end-of-weekdays’, day.

It was Hubbie’s birthday, and while he still had to partake in the ordinary and work, we did our damn best to make it a little special.

Baby girl and I surprised him by showing up at his work in the morning with cake.

And at the end of the night at home, we brought up yet another cake, a tiny little mini one, lit up with a blue candle and EVERYTHING, and sang to him.

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Photo by Audrey Fretz on Unsplash

♥♥♥

We did our best to make him feel happy, and special… but I think the best thing he got was baby girl telling him it was his birthday, repeatedly, and jumping into his arms.

It’s worth having a birthday, just for that. 🙂