Wilderness



Another week gone.

I think I snap the calendar into chapters on my camera,
but with my 50D swanning around one of the oldest regions of the world,
I had to turn to my phone to capture life instead.

Without The Guy here it was eerily quiet,
unless you count the trip to A&E with M3
for a fractured arm.  Not as quiet there.
Other than that it was your average solo parenting weekend,
where your own voice in your head is the only other adult company
for hours and hours and hours.

It is like survival of the fittest,
alone in the wilderness.




M2 baked her favourite cake
 which made a fabulous mess.
This needed superior cleaning efforts to restore
to ant-free order.
The floors were dusted in icing sugar and cocoa powder.
Egg white dripped off the side of the counter.
There was enough washing up stacked in the sink to swamp an army
and the dog padded through it all and went all
hairy and sticky through to repose on the couch.
I made M2 clean with me.
Never, ever, ever give a 9 year old a mop and bucket.
It is like making cocoa and icing sugar soup on the floor.

However, to her credit,
she did a good job and enjoyed the results of her labour
(the edible ones at least).

The smallest unit of the team enjoyed helping with the licking of the spatula.

You may notice, despite having a wee fracture,
this child is cast-free?


Well, yes.
That is because she wriggled out of it and has hidden it somewhere,
for the second time in two days.
Since she is showing no signs of favouring the arm
and says she is not sore,
I have shrugged my protective shoulders
and let her potter off into her little world of two arms and no casts.


Honestly,
butter wouldn't melt.

The oldest child did hours of homework
and then headed off for a birthday party
which bought the wilderness headcount down.

And then a certain honey coloured hound
needed a thorough wash after cavorting through the fields of cake.
Her dog shampoo is Cherry Blossom scented
and smells better than any human stuff.



This tends to tickle my fancy.
But not for long,
since she was quick to thank me for washing her by
pruning my garden
Bailey-style.



Weekends without parenting support are like shark infested treacle,
slow moving and very dangerous.
The relentlessness, the children looming larger than life,
always hungry no matter what you throw at them.
It just made me feel like hiding myself away in a dark cupboard.

But we were able to find some cool little moments;
we sniffed our way through Charlie St Cloud,
went for a lovely walk,
with me disguised as a skateboard and scooter porter,
and haggled repeatedly over whose turn it was to empty the dishwasher,
pick up the swimming towels
and tidy the toys.

Today Monday,
you may certainly come in and whisk away the 
bootcamp of my weekend.

Routine wins hands down.
I think I need a busy week in order to recover!

Gail  – (September 13, 2011 at 9:16 PM)  

I can't help but laugh. Don't know who gives you the most run-around: M3 or that cheeky dog of yours.

The mess in the kitchen - such a pain, but the consequence of awesome parenting. I must give Miss O that kitchen time soon too.... and yes, I will try to prepare myself for that clean up that will surely need to follow!

Sj  – (September 14, 2011 at 11:31 PM)  

lovely pictures drawn with your words again Amy. I felt like I was there being an ant on your wall watching the cocoa and the mop meld together making soup, seeing you laughing with the things that were happening and seeing you relieved that all were in bed and you were able to finally breathe. Hope this week has been busy, if that's what you needed. Love the choc faced wee darling. Love u xx

Kelly Sauer  – (October 10, 2011 at 7:44 AM)  

I know you describe a hard weekend, but you write it with such humor that it feels delightful. I love your world, Amy, I love how you choose to see, and how you keep going, even when your world falls apart in all the little ways and the big ones. You are truly an inspiration.

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