Wednesday, August 26, 2015

It will pass in time

The evening ritual.

After dinner are the three Bs: bath, books, bed. It is a meaningful ritual for me and not in that way of let's-hurry-up-and-get-the-day-done-so-I-can-watch-crap TV but in more of a return to comfort and coziness and just a really quiet end to it all. Security, I suppose. It's not about the excitement of what the night holds anymore but how to end the day with a soft landing.

Although with a little 4 month old, sometimes the evening wind down is just a chance to relax before it starts again in a few short hours.

We always put some nighttime music on in Georgie's room for her to fall asleep to - everything from Passenger, Disney Classics, Asgeir, Playschool, Sesame Street, and for about 3 months after Christmas we were still listening to A Very She & Him Christmas.

But as Georgie and Phoebe fell asleep together tonight, I was thinking of my own nighttime music. And this one came to me straight away - all of Beth Orton's 'Central Reservation', the album I listened to so much in my very first apartment on my own on W. Main Street in Madison, circa 1999. The very worn, very varnished floor boards, the big old basin sink in the kitchen, the spacious closet you walked through to get to the bathroom with the 1920s pentagon tile floor. I listened to this album so much on quiet nights alone, after finishing a not overly challenging but fun job, after going to the all-women's gym for step aerobics or yoga and then to home for dinner to something like a packet of rice with a can of green beans.

And there is part of me right now that thinks getting back to work wouldn't be so terrible, having an income would be a relief, but then why rush it for a few months? The lean times will pass in time but so will these months as 'just a mom' with Phoebe as a baby and with Georgie before she goes to kindergarten. For better or for worse, it will pass in time.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Look to the cup

Yes, because what the world needs is another picture of an expensive coffee. But it is delicious and even though I am a dreadfully slow coffee drinker - so as to drink just one cup for a very long time rather than multiple coffees - and will have to get Georgie from gym class soon, I wanted the coffee because of the quality of crockery (vs paper takeaway cup).

The only way I can explain it is like how you might have a preference for a kind of pen to write with on a certain kind of paper. In college I was more engaged in class if I had a cheap little blue bic ballpoint on somewhat nicer University logo'd spiral notebook paper with a nice padding. I enjoyed the act of writing and my penmanship more. Strange? Whatever gets your through a classes like 'The Quest for Human Destiny' or 'Medieval Autobiography.'

The Toby's mug is some kind of earthenware pottery I suppose and not a design I would pick for my house but it is heavy, not smooth, and adds a bit of gravitas to the whole affair.

Thursday, August 06, 2015

Pool envy

There must be some kind of fitness FOMO term for when you are sitting at the pool drinking a large flat white and watching people swimming from the cafe above. It is what I am feeling now as I sit with Phoebe and a very nice, very expensive ($4.30!) coffee while Georgie does a gym class.

Despite the temperature 11C / 52F there are a number of hardy souls going up and down the bright blue lanes. Plus the sun is out and it warm on my back. I am a terrible swimmer in terms of technique or speed but in the last year as G learns to swim and while I was pregnant, I just decided to get in and paddle for a bit the best I could. It's not easy but I feel good and it is different from anything else I do. Finishing and wanting to wrap a towel around, dash to the locker room, shower and THEN get the expensive coffee. And when there are all types - old, large, creaky, disabled, super fit way over in the fast lane - also in the pool it is easier to not care if you make it all the way up the lane or turn around and do some 'Mom' strokes to get back to the shallow end.

Next week, I'll bring my swimmers.