You know when you’ve had enough sleep? You wake up and actually feel good? It’s a feeling I don’t have that often, mainly due to staying up too late at night cause I’m so desperate to have more time to myself. I’m a nightowl, and getting up for work at 6.30 am four days a week is pretty tortuous.
But yesterday, my day at home just me and the wee lass, I got up at 8.30 am. There was silence in the house apart from the odd snore coming through the wall from the wee lass’s bedroom. Him Indoors had left for work. The big lad was away to school. I stretched myself out in bed and wondered why I felt peculiar … Oh yes, I’d had about 8 hours sleep. A novelty indeed.
I bombed into the shower, got dressed, hair done, face done, tidying up done, all before she got up at 9.00. The day started off on a very good footing: I didn’t have to get myself ready with a two year old in tow grabbing at everything and running amok but rather was all ready in advance of the onslaught.
The sun streamed into my living room – another portent of what I already felt was going to be a Really Good Day.
On our day together we go to her wee gymnastics class, and as it was so beautiful outside yesterday we went to the park, then to a local play café for lunch to give her the opportunity for her to burn off even more toddler energy, then a big grocery shopping, all before her two hour sleep in the afternoon.
I couldn’t do this five days a week, I don’t have the right mentality to be a stay at home mum, but I’d love to be able to do it two days a week. Still, one day a week just me and her is better than none, and I’m very grateful for it.
Her two hour sleeps on our one day together are like an oasis of peace for me, something I look forward to all week. The first hour I always spend doing housework crap: laundry, tidying, dinner prep, boring routine stuff. But the second hour, I sit down with a cup of tea and read, all on my own with not one other person around to disturb me. No telly with its ghastly intrusion. Nobody asking you to do things, nobody talking, no distractions, nothing. One whole perfect hour just for me. And yesterday I did it outside in the sun: another novelty.
When the wee lass got up at 4pm, I played with her out in the garden for ages before dinner. She “helped” me weed a flower bed and the herb patch (hmmm!), then as the sun was still (unusually for these parts) showing itself, we had dinner outside. No carnage of thrown food to clear up – fabulous!
And then my batteries were recharged for the next onslaught: the big lad coming home from school, making dinner, trying to make sure two fussy children actually eat it, clearing up afterwards, showering the wee lass and getting her to bed, fighting with the big lad and trying to get him to bed on time, doing any other wee jobs that need done. It’s a hard shift. My other half shares it so it’s hard on him too, and he’s working five days a week in a job that’s significantly more difficult than mine, but by the time it’s all done, it can be 9pm and we’re both completely buggered worn out.
Some days are easier than others. And yesterday was this little jewel of ease and fun and warmth.
Of course the flip side of this is that if it’s pissing rain all day and wee madam is in correspondingly bad form, then it’s just horrible and I’m glad to get back to work the following day. Not yesterday though. It was one of those perfect days that keep you going through the not so perfect days. One of those days where you actually feel on top of things.
One of those days that make you smile with heartfelt gratitude for everything you have.