Life between coffees.
Last night Bert and I were bachelor boys as both of the girls were out. Doing what all young men about town do we hopped in the car and went out too.
It was while having dinner at The Coat that it happened for the first time. Kaz came over and told me that the lovely Claire had forgotten my name and I was referred to as ‘um, Bert’s dad’. It may have been the first time but I guess it won’t be the last.
The time has come. I’ve hung my jeans, stowed the slippers, cancelled the paper delivery, checked my swipe is in the car, checked my work clothes still fit (yeah!), bought a new pair of shoes and as a final symbolic act, had a shave.
Tomorrow I head back to full time work.
The past five months at home with Bert have been the happiest of my life. Getting married in that time also helped, of course, and even a move couldn’t bring the time down. I have enjoyed every single second, right down to the nappies and very occasional sleepless night. As his mum put him to bed tonight he looked at me, smiled and said “Dada”.
I’m so going to miss my boy.
Mum has come to visit for a couple of days. It’s lovely to have clothes ironed, little cakes made (yes Marita, they’re superb) and the kids well and truly smothered with affection.
Last night as we headed off to bed mum asked if I had a book for her to read. Hmmmm. There’s a challenge as our reading tastes differ considerably to mum’s – a lot of history, biographies, Ian Rankin, Iain Banks…nothing that mum would really be in to. And then I spotted it. Harry Potter. Mum said she couldn’t put it down last night so we’ll be sending her home with the first three to keep her going. Those books truly know no age boundaries.
We all went for another stroll today, this time around Seddon and Footscray. I managed to get some pictures to start my ‘Old Signs on Buildings‘ collection, the start of what will hopefully be an ongoing project.
One thing the hour or so we spent walking taught me – my foot is not well. Back to the doctor I go.
a quickr pickr post
As my love has already pointed out I am a recent convert to the way of the flannelette pyjama. I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to be seduced by the flannelettish goodness. My one question though – what is the earliest one can pop in to their pyjamas for a nice night in front of the telly or reading, or is it more a function of the time, date and outside temperature?
a quickr pickr post
Coffee out at the Coat, a good clean up of the house inside and out, a kick of the footy with my little girl, a nap, a classic DVD, playing with the boy, finishing a Harry Potter book and steak and chips for dinner with footy on the telly afterwards.
I’m a happy man.
Today we bit the bullet, hired a professional and spent $99 in an attempt to save our marriage.Yes, we had our doona dry cleaned, refilled and had Rae’s side made ‘1 Blanket’ warmer than mine. The nice man collected it at 7:30, even bringing me the paper and he brought it back this afternoon. We went the ‘Marriage Saver’ package because Rae needs her doona even on the hottest of summer nights. In winter a simple doona is enough for me while my wife hides under as many blankets and layers of clothes as she can find. I won’t even mention the thick socks too.
Hopefully this may change a little now, if not I’ll have the experience should I fall in love with an Eskimo once the divorce comes through.
