On mornings.
It’s a funny thing, really, that getting up ten minutes earlier should make for a better morning when mostly, what I’d like to do is sleeeeeeep. Still, though, that’s what I’ve discovered since going back to work after nearly a month – ten minutes makes for a much more peaceable morning. Time to have a cup of tea before pushing off to work, even.*
This morning in particular I found myself pondering about the many aspects of my life in which I am more than normally fortunate. Last night, the small girl slept through the night; anyone following my recent ‘woe is me!’ posts about sleep, the lack thereof, will know what this means. So, that was the first lucky bit.
The second good bit was that, had the small girl woken in the night, Quercus would have gone into her, settled her back down again, and staggered back to bed; he is a very lovely man indeed, and I am constantly delighted by how lovely he is with the aforementioned small girl. The third smug-making thing was that our morning started, as do most mornings, with me going into the small girl’s room, extracting her, warm and stretching, from her bed and returning to our big bed for a drowsy feed, which normally finishes when she breaks off and demands ’round and round!’, the cue for tickling and general baby tormenting to begin. (Though I should add that this session is probably responsible for her new bathtime behaviour – the nerve! The nerve of it! – which consists of chasing me around the bathroom shrieking ‘tickle! tickle!’ while attempting to catch MY TOES. Now that, THAT was not in the plan – !)
Fourth good thing: when I left for work, the small girl was far more interested in the idea of Quercus reading her Julia Donaldson’s excellent Tiddler than she was of me departing. Fifth thing the lucky: I get to leave work at 12.30 because our working arrangements allow us to share looking after the small girl at home, rather than using a nursery. (I do think lots of people could do this, but just don’t think of it, that said; I have colleagues earning far more than we do who express amazement at how much my husband must earn in order for this to work. Not so, my friend, not so.) Sixth thing: walking into my building at work, I could see right across Exeter, with the cathedral tower rising against a crisp and slighty misty morning, and the pale lines of Dartmoor in the background. Seventh thing: fresh coffee with crushed cardamom – gingerbread in a mug, I tell you.
And you? What’s good where you are?
* I used not to be a morning person AT ALL, but somehow these days, I really enjoy being up before everyone else. I think this process started when Quercus’s job meant that he was leaving for work at 6.30 or so; that’s probably seven years ago now, but it introduced me to the quiet of the day, when I used to sit at the kitchen table working on my MA coursework while watching the city wake up through an indecently large Georgian sash window. Now, I look out of small-paned windows which we chose ourselves, and which are fitted into the walls of a building which Quercus built; the surroundings have changed so much, but the quiet calm of those first few moments have not.
THANK GOD THERE IS NOTHING ACADEMIC HAPPENING, THOUGH. There. I said it.
Those nights when your child sleeps through are bliss aren’t they?
What is good here? The sun is shining, Mr Mog is erecting a plastic greenhouse so we can grow more vegetables this year.
I’m loving the new spinning wheel.
I am so glad you’re getting more sleep! Keep at it! And so glad Quercus is taking some of the burden off you, too.
I also have small children and work part-time–from home, in my case. I think a lot of people still don’t really have a choice, at least here in the U.S., but still, it seems that more and more employers are allowing flex-time, work from home, part-time, etc. as an option. It’s not always easy juggling work and home like this, and like any work-life balance there are pros and cons, but I think this is close to my ideal solution. My son, the older at almost 3 years, is in care full-time right now, while his sister is home full-time, but I am thinking of moving both to part-time in the next couple months. What luxury to have that flexibility. I make a little money and keep my hand in the game, occupationally speaking; but I am able to keep my children at home while they are really small, which is important to me, and generally get to see a good amount of them.
Yay on the small girl sleeping through the night.
Good here is getting home to find hubby has dinner nearly ready and a cup of tea just brewed.
What’s good here is that my husband is still cooking dinner almost every night. It’s not that I want not to cook, it’s the being cared for that is so lovely.
And I can have baths again after six weeks of not.
And *ahem* sex is back on the agenda. I know, darling, I’m far too old. Snigger.
You’re never too old
Very, very tough week which means the good, the very very good and lucky, is that this week is nearly over and NEXT week is Spring Break which for the first time in forever and ever I am taking off (except for the inevitable three essays and two graphic projects) and GOING AWAY.
Sigh.
Heh. Well, you pretty much know what’s good here.
One of the less obvious ones, which will change with time I have no doubt, was listening to TRM falling asleep beside me last night – he snores like nobody’s business but, for the time being, it’s lovely because it means he’s there!
Second lovely thing was that the kids didn’t make a big fuss when I brought them to their dad’s house to stay yesterday evening. We had been for a walk, in woods not far from where I live, with TRM and had discovered a ruined house and lots of good climbing trees, and had met a woman walking eight (eight!) dogs. One of which was a liver springer spaniel who, clearly, wanted to be and should be, mine. Thus, they were worn out and happily dirty and just ready for the dinner that their dad was dishing up. Ergo, no whinging or stropping about mummy wandering off for the evening. Hooray!
good was walking through the final doorway from arrivals and seeing tom at the other end of the walkway, and the two small girls screaming ‘daddy’ and running towards him after we’d spent the week in spain trying to gee up my aged parents (whilst developing and then passing on a tummy bug!), good was arriving home and climbing into my perfectly comfortable bed after a week spent on a 20yr old (not very comfortble in the first place) sofa bed…. good is heating or full access to ones jumpers, wooly socks etc and all of this today! good was spending a whole precious week with the not so well aged parents in spite of the bitter cold, the lumpy, insubstantial mattress and the vomitting bug
i’m glad the little lady slept through, i should add to my ‘goods’ that yogi slept through the night we arrived and also last night – if only i had been able to too it would have been wonderful!
Strippy tights yumminess: http://www.sockdreams.com/
I used to be so good at getting up early. I’m ashamed to say when I stopped early morning “nursies” the little one started getting up at 6:30am instead of nursing back to blissful sleep for another 1-2 hours, and I (bad mama that I am) let him watch TV so I can get in just another 30 minutes of sleep! Ugh. Sometimes I hate myself! You have inspired me to try and take advantage of the early mornings.
Oh, and love the tickle tormenting. Those giggles are music, aren’t they?
Arvo is home. I have time to go mad. Yay!