At this very moment, Maisie is playing on the floor wearing only a nappy (one of my all-time favourite things to watch, is a baby with a roundy little nappied bottom, with a pot belly and knees red from crawling...mmmm - gorgeous!!) Anyway, I digress: the Mouse is comfortable because she's nearly naked, basking in the breeze from the air conditioner; Jack and Phoebe are in shorty pyjamas, fresh from a bath that washed away the sand, sunscreen and salt left from going to the beach; and Christian and I are watching the tennis on telly. So what does all this mean? It's summer!
And I don't mean hot, sweaty, busy, too-many-things-to-fit-in-before-Christmas summer - I mean long lazy days, when the most pressing thing to do is decide what time to go for a swim. Jack's biggest dilemma today was whether or not to take his snorter, slippers and guggles to the beach (he decided against it in the end, as Narnie was bringing the new "kicking boards" she had bought for the big kids - too exciting!!) In our family, January means lots and lots of birthdays, so last night we had a double celebration for Aunty Miffy and Uncle Joshie, both of whom are turning 16 again this week (*ahem* *cough cough* *splutter*). We had a lovely night with the family, especially considering my brother is moving interstate this week. After all the excitement, the kids didn't go to bed until around 9:30pm, so this morning was a little slow!
What I loved about today was the kids played in their jarmies until half-past indecent o'clock; that we had fresh fruit salad for morning tea (and it was all in-season); that when we were in the car, the kids belted out "Land Down Under" at the tops of their lungs (and with every subsequent 80's track, Phoebe declared it was her favourite and her best!); that we were able to go to the beach for a swim this afternoon, and enjoy the clean, cool waters of the beach where I grew up; that my baby discovered the joys of making (and eating) sandcastles with a bucket and spade; that we came home for a dinner of salad and fish, and watermelon; and that Christian and I have a whole night of Australian Open tennis to enjoy without worrying about having to be anywhere early tomorrow morning.
I am completely aware that next week, a lot of this will change. My lovely hubby is returning to work after his extended sick leave, and there will be a palpable change in the household dynamic. Very soon, we will be entrenched in the morning school and kinder run, and these lazy days of eating drippy fruit in our nighties will be over - until next summer, of course!! But for now, I am thoroughly enjoying these slothful days...but hang on a sec - did you hear that? That was the sound of my bubble bursting...
As I was merrily blogging away, the Mouse was being productive in her own special way...and I suppose one of the greatest drawbacks of the beach is the gift that keeps on giving - that's right: sand in the nappy. Apparently it hurts. A lot. After I cleaned that one up, it became apparent that Jack and Phoebs were suffering from a common summer ailment: the "it's-too-hot-to-sleep-so-we'll-put-our-feet-on-the-wall" syndrome, common in young children around this time of year. This syndrome is usually accompanied by a generous dose of "it's-too-light-to-go-to-bed-yet-itis", and I would love to know if anyone has found a cure for this yet?!? We also appear to be afflicted with "there's-sand-in-my-bed-so-I-can't-sleep", and a tiny bit of "I-ate-too-much-watermelon". And so it would appear that I have missed much of Sam Stosur's match...oh well. That's my karma I suppose. Next time you hear me waxing lyrical about something, just remind me: the bubble has got to burst some time. And it will probably have sand in it.
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