It’s ten past eleven, I’ve just arrived downstairs triumphant as Ida has finally passed out in her own bed. As I flop on to the sofa, turn SITC on and pick up my knitting Steve announces he’s off to bed. Gah.
I’m REALLY missing grown up alone time. Is it wrong to put a lid on the cot? Is it? I know this passes, all things pass, when will it pass? It’s not so bad as it’s half term at the moment but next week is going to be a killer. I’m not a morning person.
On a much more cheerful note Ida presented me with a picture of myself today. It really looks like a person – more by coincidence than anything else but this will not stop me celebrating.
You see…that’s my head at the top, with an eye. I’m wearing shoes – blue ones apparently.
I’m calling Mensa tomorrow, maybe the Royal Academy.
That’s if I can drag myself out of bed.
Actually Ida draws a lot more than Zeph used to. She likes to draw while Z’s doing homework I think she’s trying to copy his writing producing long lines of tight spirals. I like watching the intense concentration while she does it. She sticks her tongue out just like Zeph used to.
She likes to bring you a pen and some paper and request animals but woe betide you if you draw them with legs. She likes to add the legs – lot’s of them so in the end everything resembles squid.
I know – this is all very trivial – but in my late night stupor – what I’m thinking about, what I want to remember, is the joy she finds in steering a line across a blank page.
And I want to find that joy again for myself. Is this why we have children, to remind ourselves?
Today’s BT is sequins, how brilliant are they? Even literally…
Had a really satisfying glueing crafty session after school. Is it wrong that I really enjoy doing the craft stuff with the kids? – I mean I rarely supervise, just get stuck in doing my own then glance up to find chaos. Although it’s such beautiful sparkly chaos – how can you mind?
We made bookmarks today with felt. I love felt – even this stuff which is just the cheap squares in various bright hues. Real felt is amazing obviously but this stuff is perfect for sticking and easy for small hands to cut and sew as it doesn’t fray and is quite stiff. Z did a brilliant workshop making felt once at the amazing after school club he used to attend when I was working, Cool Runnings. I’d like to do that some day (maybe the summer..dream dream…) but until then I’m pretty happy messing about with this stuff and my exciting trials with a washing machine and wool jumpers… more of this later.
I’m reading Tove Jansson’s Summer Book at the moment and feel like escaping to an island. I know I’m an urban girl at heart but daydream about remote hermitage style retreats. Talking to a friend this morning I was reminded of my childhood ambition to be a nun. I wasn’t a spiritual child at all but knew this absolutely enraged my poor adamantly atheist dad, earned my sugar rewards from my catholic Granny and I was honestly fascinated by the idea of a contemplative order – and being totally alone. I used to practise not speaking for days on end. I reminded my mum of these halcyon days earlier and she said she felt sick at the memory, apparently I used to keep it up for days and days and one of the many infant schools I attended wanted to refer me to a specialist in child elective mutism. Who knew? I don’t remember it being that serious. It was definitely before all my childhood misery. My poor Mum, apparently my Dad sorted it out by refusing to serve up dinner until I joined in the table conversation. Always liked my food see.
This has reminded me how tangled and magical the workings of a small persons head can be. Z often seems like such a bouncy, straightforward and Tiggerish boy that I sometimes fall into the trap of thinking I’ve got him pegged for him to blow me away with a revealing comment or action. Good thing too, although now I’m wondering what may be in wait for us…