Ok, as you know I have had a rather, ahem, freaking horrible week. I haven’t even bored you all with half of it.
Don’t go! I won’t whinge anymore I promise! Well at least for tonight. And what I have to say doesn’t constitute as whinging per se…..
On Friday nights we have sleepover in the loungeroom. His highness (aka tiny terrorist, little turd, shit-and-toothpaste-mural-artist-extrodinaire, or my loving son Boo) has decreed that Friday night is the night that Mummy bunks down on the loungeroom floor while he does cartwheels around the room, pausing momentarily to fall, nappy clad arse first, onto said bed fellows face. Until, at the very least, 3am.
Well tonight DH is working and in my bruised and battered and broken state I cannot possibly lug the queen sized mattress from our broom closet sized bedroom down the hall to the lounge. So we are doing the sleepover in my room.
I had plans for tonight. I was going to make the wands for his party. I was going to get a head start on the washing for the weekend. I was going to do some more of my looooong overdue advocacy work and reply to some emails. But I am in bed.
Every other night it takes at least an hour to get him into bed, let alone asleep, but tonight? He is quietly lying next to me staring at the ceiling while I type (thank God for laptops!) occasionally turning to ask me a question.
‘Hey mum, what is blood for?’
‘Where do moth’s mummies live?’ There was a moth in the room earlier
‘ What are we going to play tomorrow?’
I have so much to do. I am going to be running around like a madwoman for the next week. I really should get out of bed and get something done.
But right now I don’t think there is anywhere else I would rather be than hanging out with my Boo, laying side by side in my bed that is so warm and cozy. His chubby little body snuggled close to mine, humming a tune that I can’t quite catch, his hand reaching out for mine.
The soft whisper,
‘I love you Mummy’
Yes, I have heaps to do. The washing, oh so much washing. But nothing in this world is more important than cuddling with my Boo.
I am sure everyone will understand.
Undies can be worn twice can’t they?