Okay well that's not entirely true. I do get empathy from the girls. Mini dude though. Nope. Doesn't. Give. A. Rat's.
So when I tell him to stay in bed because I don't feel well, does he listen?
No.
He comes out to the lounge room where I am curled in a ball feeling horrific and starts. "Mummmmmmmy."
Oh. God. Child. Leave me alone.
"What is it?"
"I'm not tired."
Kill me.
"Go to bed."
"I want you to come with me."
So I take him back in and retuck him in, give him a kiss, tell him I love him then come back out to curl up underneath the ceiling fan which I have on because I am getting hot flushes. Yes. Tis that kind of ill. Caused by? I am fairly sure it was overexertion in the sun this afternoon with a mower with which I am not familiar and which requires an inordinate amount of strength to utilize, coupled with a 40 year old body that does far too little in the way of exercise, with which I usually have no issue, until such time as I decide to go hell for leather mowing the lawn again for the second time in the space of a week. I think that about sums it up. So yes, fully self inflicted. But still. A bit of sympathy wouldn't go astray....
So he's in bed. He sounds like a sick sheep. "Mummyyyyyyyyyy. Mummyyyyyyyyyy." The long sound is on the eee sound at the end. It's fabulous. no. Really.
Anyway, he's asleep now. Only 9 or 10 visits back out to the lounge room. Why so many tonight? Because the girls were good. That is the way it works with kids. The times that they are all angels together are approximately as rare as those times when you phone Centrelink and wait less than 10 minutes to speak to someone. I know. It isn't very often at all.
I went out for lunch today. It was a 2 wine lunch. It was lovely. I was a grown up. I ate my meal by myself, stayed for hours longer than I 'needed' to, and had a fabulous time catching up with a friend with whom I haven't had a chance to catch up for ages.
Then I came home and mowed. Oh, but that isn't all.....! I attempted to fix my mower. Yes. Yes I did. I still have my neighbour's lawnmower until Saturday which is why I did the double mow, just in case I couldn't get my own back working. But today I removed the spark plug, gave it a clean, wiped up some oil and stuff from the mower, and put the spark plug back in, and guess what? Yep. I rock. It started. I couldn't quite believe it. I just stared, open mouthed, and looked at it in disbelief. Then I turned it off because it is still making quite a lot of smoke and I didn't know if that was good or not and it was making me cough anyway. Not to mention creating a beautiful ambience of the plains of Scotland in a fog in my garage.
I made the kids sandwiches for dinner tonight. I spent too much time at lunch and mowing and completely forgot to make dinner. But I figure once isn't going to kill them. They loved it. And between them went through an entire loaf of bread. Monsters they are.
I'm actually starting to feel a little better. The carrot and cucumber sticks I ate were medicinal. I believe quite firmly that if I also had some tomato (which I don't) then I would be completely better.
Now here's a lesson for the day. In addition to Thomas engines and Lego, the shapes from the inside of a Tupperware Shape-O ball can be added to the "holy crap please don't let me ever step on one of those in the dark" list. Especially the star.
And another thing.
If your 4 year old has a bandaid on, and you wish to change said bandaid, prepare yourself. I do believe that Miss 4 was utilized as a sound effect in the movie Pearl Harbour. All they had to do was attempt to change her bandaid and instant air raid siren.
I often wonder what the neighbours must think. The other night I kid you not it sounded as though I was belting the living crap out of them by the screams. But every breath, every scream, was my saying a name, or counting, or, heaven forbid, telling them to go to bed. I know the old duck on one side of the house doesn't hear, as she has told me. The other side though, well, let's just say I try not to make eye contact. God only knows what they are thinking when mini dude has his night terrors.......
Anyway, it's 'go and stand at the fridge door looking in and hoping something will magically appear that I want to eat' o'clock.
I'm feeling better. Maybe I'm just soft? So many people are these days. Or maybe not. Or maybe I should have had breakfast.
Oh wow. I know what it is. I only had three coffees today. That MUST be why I felt ill. Not the whole completely unfit and ridiculously inflexible and incapable of doing a small modicum of exercise in the way of mowing.
And there's a lesson in that for all of us....
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