Sorry, sorry, sorry…. I kept thinking of things to blog about, then I wouldn’t blog about them, then I’d think of something else and I didn’t get around to writing about that, I’d start to blog about the first thing I’d thought of and it no longer worked, blah blah blah…
So I’m sorry for the empty silence. But it’s nice, well OK it’s very nice, being missed. So thank you for the messages and encouragement, even though if I’m being honest most of these were from you Mum.
It’s been a big few weeks here. Biggish, anyway. Our little girl started full time nursery. The sight of her in a uniform and pigtails is really something else, then my son puts his little arm protectively around her shoulders and I melt. I’m full of love so much that it hurts.
Then my daughter breaks free from her brother, whacks me in the face and screams at me that I have to go to gaol. My crime? Having a three year old. Terrible twos be damned, in this house it’s three that’s the tricky age, and we are right in the thick of it. I know (I hope) it’s a phase, and it’s bad to wish life away, but can this phase stop please? She was so easy, so portable, when she was two.
She loves nursery though. Although her favourite part of the day is when I pick her up – she does love me after all!
So yes, we are planning our move back to Sydney (Tip! Don’t ever move overseas! The planning sucks!) and it hurts my head. I don’t like making decisions, lists kill me and for some reason when I have to be organised I get really, really tired. Anyone else find that?
The Moving Gods are against us too – so many decisions are being thwarted it’s like a constant brick wall in our faces.
So now my two children are at school all day, five days a week. I’ll never, ever have this time to myself ever again so I am relishing it. I’ve allowed myself two full days of tea and sloth (oh wow) and from tomorrow I will be a well-turned out stay-at-home mother with shiny hair and a freakishly clean house. For a few weeks, anyway. Then we move back to Australia, have a second summer holiday (the first didn’t count, no offence Britain) and I go back to work – scary. Don’t you love how I say that so confidently, as though I have a job to go back to?
We’ll get there though. I’ll be sure to thrill you with stories of boxes, bubble wrap and burly removalists I can’t understand. You’re excited aren’t you? Happy I’m back?
Anyway it’s good to be back. Thanks to those who kept checking in and thanks to you for coming back. You’re tops. x