There are not many days where we spend all day at home. I find myself getting a little more impatient, frazzled and thumb-twiddling when I don’t have some sort of plan for the day. I love home. But hours at home can be long and overwhelming when its just you and your wee ones, and you’re trying not to check facebook as much, and you’ve just read something else about how detrimental screen time is for children, so you’ve once again pledged not to watch any films during the day..
The last two days have been at home days – our plans yesterday thwarted by the snuggling needs of a very teething baby, and they’ve been slow, enjoyable, tiring, messy, lovely. Ezra has started to really, really gnaw and dribble and his little gums are brick hard so teeth are a-coming. Ava is still her usual, delightful, batshit crazy, self.
(Yesterday, we ventured out to our local shop and the shop assistant made the mistake of leaning across the counter to stroke Ezra. Big mistake. Ava peered up at her and said in her most ominous voice, ‘That’s my baby’)
I look at days like these and I trace my way back through the hours and wonder what we’ve actually done. You know…accomplished. I finished a scarf. We ate a mostly healthy variety of food. We read a lot of books. We played with my new wrap. I fiddled with some plants. We drew a lot of drawings. Mostly, we just hung out and amused each other and got on each other’s nerves.
And to top it off, it was a full moon two nights ago, which probably explains why I feel this dragging, pulling, energy-sapping headache, so that when Ava suggests we read ‘You Choose’ again (I know, great book for kids, but I hate it. I hate it) I say no, it has to be another. Any book, but just not that.
Sometimes I amuse myself by thinking of all these routines we could have like baking days on a Monday and paintings days on a Wednesday but my style of parenting is just a little more schizophrenic and I can’t, at this time, predict what any one day is going to look like.
It doesn’t matter, really. There are always going to be moments in a day when you feel like you’re losing your mind and you have to choose between ignoring your child for the next ten seconds or snapping at them. But most of the moments, most of the time, for me, are moments where I am still aware that I’m lucky, really, really lucky to be doing this thing I always wanted to do, and even if it looks and feels so much more and less, and different to how I imagined, the fact that I get to do it, is A Good Thing.