Land of mist

It's been a soggy week here, frigid, grey, sodden. I woke up on Monday to my very messy house and my generally irritable, Mondayitis inflicted family in the greyness and worried that it was an omen. What good is a week off if you spend it damp and miserable? I looked forlornly at the himalayan washing pile that I had hoped to reduce, cursing our broken dryer and averting my eyes from the grime in the kitchen (I've discovered that not replacing the second light bulb in the kitchen helps this considerably).

The double edged sword of a week off when your dayjob is not a SAHM is that there is often a pile of jobs for you to do "in" that week off. In my spectacularly unhousewifely case (see below) that invariably revolves around housework. It also meant doing tax, contacting Centrelink, enrolling the Elfling in Prep (sidenote OMG!) and other such tasks that make the envy of all my friends. I half heartedly tackled the lounge room on Day One and discovered more carpet stains that made me wish I'd left the plethora of camouflaging playthings on top. I made very little headway with anything else besides tax and other such things that allowed me to sit at the computer, huddling around its lovely warmth like so many gas heaters.

Tuesday was much better having organised to spend with my best friend and her baby. We had fun traipsing around the shops and *doing lunch* until said baby's teeth and week old antibiotic unresponsive ears and general toddlerness put paid to our outing. I then half heartedly tidied the girls bedroom (again) thinking to myself that the Elfling really needed a full sized bed (again) and resolving to actually do something about it. In short, more fun, less achieved.

Wednesday the LH, who had been strongarmed by his adoring and adorable wife, had the day off, and after dispatching the children to kindy (their choice, apparently Mum and Dad can't compete with playdoh, paint, glitter and unidentifiable sticky staining agents) we headed off to see a movie. Alone! With no one else! Just us! Went and saw Hancock (meh) after a late brunch before idly wandering through the maze that is department stores in full "TOY SALE" swing. About halfway through this sojourn I started to double over in crippling pain assuming that it heralded the welcome news that I was not pregnant (google endometriosis, then stab yourself several times in the back while vomiting and ruining all your clothes if you have not heard of it before). Unfortunately for me, it was not the joyful news of unfecundity but the announcement that gastroenteritis had arrived and was planning to stay. We hurried home to prepare for the arrival, with me feeling grumpier than the weather.

Curled up in the foetal position in bed, I was not feeling particularly genial, but suddenly had the idea that spending my holidays being grumpy is not exactly the most exciting option and got up gingerly to peruse my bookcase looking for solace in an old favourite. By this stage the rain was drumming heavily on the roof and I wanted a book with the warmth and sweetness of a large hot chocolate with marshmallows. I selected a book so well read that its corners are rounded and the pages yellowed with age and experience, and snuggled under the 2 feather doonas as the rain thundered away on the colourbond roof.

Within 2 hours I had finished the whole book and stretched out langurously, warm from head to toe with a smile on my lips and eyes. I grinned as a little girl as fiesty and luminous grey-green eyed as the heroine in my book jumped on top of me with a rapturous "MUMMY" and thrilled to my toes at the idea of introducing my sweet, dreamy Elfling to the wonder of Anne. Although the next 24 hours were spent much less romantically as the gastro worsened, reading Anne of Green Gables (something I haven't done in a few years), really brought me out of my grey stupor and reminded me how much I love rain as I snuggled into the world's best husband.

Thursday I was very unwell and spent reading the next 2 Anne books in bed, venturing out to try eating exciting things like plain bread and a banana and to sit on the couch limply watching the girls. But with Anne as company, and my husband and babies to periodically snuggle into bed with me throughout the day I was as happy as a pig in the ever increasing mud puddles outside.

Today I was much better and so after dropping the girls at their respective kindys (cake and a birthday party at one, a gaggle of friends and fresh made playdoh at the other) LH and I travelled to a tiny little Vietnamese cafe that makes an all day breakfast to die for (cholesterol city ;)) before wandering in the misty fog to the GoMA to peruse the collection of the late Pablo Picasso. An eclectic and surprising collection we both enjoyed unravelling the muse of Picasso, me being enraptured by the Renoirs and the Picasso nudes, while LH was taken by the savage eroticism of some of Luis Fernandez' pencilwork.



We then dashed through the rain to drink hot chocolate in the Art Gallery and discuss shoes and ships and sealing wax with raindrops frosting our hair. Although we were shivering from the cold it was a glorious early afternoon, the greyness transmuting to silveriness and the sheer emancipated joy at being able to spend time together just by ourselves invigorating deep down in my soul.

Fairly bursting with gladness we then headed off to the more prosaic tasks of spending our tax return on a new carseat for the Elfling who has outgrown hers and sourcing new beds for the girls for the same reason. She was enraptured when I picked her up early this afternoon to find herself sitting in a big girl's seat (for the bargain basement price of $159!) and we spent this afternoon playing together before a mish mash dinner and fairy stories.

This week had the potential to be a complete washout, but we're ending it with the house relatively clean, the washing mostly done, the girls happy and healthy, but most importantly we're feeling invigorated, energised and sparkling. What's better still is that there 2 more days of this break to go!