Gosh, it's been a while.
Here's a brief update:
Keith remains a fine figure of a man. Bum like two puppies fighting under a blanket. He is creaking a little under the pressure hose of life with two under three though, as I am. Hunching over a computer all day, driving too often to Canberra and throwing little people in the air is putting pressure on his back. It's gone funny. It hurts.
Ivy, soldering synapses at an incredible rate, learns more by the day. She's doing well on the toilet training front. Sportacus underpants. Many successes. And many momensts to remember. In the bath, with Teddy, Ivy usually adds her own little organic product to the mix. My argument against weeing in the bath water doesn't fly. 'It's not nice, Ivy,' I tell her. 'But Mummy,' she insists, 'It is nice.'
Hard to refute that.
Last night she contorted herself into a position worthy of a Ukranian gymnast and announced proudly: 'Mummy, I'm holding the wee in my bagina so I don't do it in the bath.' After a pause, a look of surprise. 'Mum! I did wee on my hand!'
Another day, another lesson.
Teddy, luckily, is still as adorable as a golden retreiver puppy, because he's got about as much sense. He hasn't got the memo yet about our improved routine. If I move two feet away from him, he wails as though I'm cutting his legs off. It's so sweet. He loves his Mummy. But it is
When he does get up to his own fun for a moment or two, it's Labrador-style. At the computer, he's clicking the mouse frantically around a box reading 'Are you sure you want to delete the file 'work in progress' and all its contents?' Then he's into the CD cabinet, and the glassware shelf. And when he does one of his mammoth poos, he's not happy until he's fully explored its textures with his foot.
Me, I'm cracking up just a little bit. Not enough to warrant a Prozac, rocks, with a twist; but enough that everyday life is starting to present new challenges. In recent days I've put deodorant on my face, filled my coffeepot and put it in the microwave, and after a massage, put my clothes back on, slung my handbag over my shoulder, and had my hand on the doorknob before I realised I had forgotten my top.
In general, I'm feeling a bit exhausted from the everyday grind. (Case in point - I'm writing this during our Wiggles break in the afternoon. Ivy just leaned in: 'Mummy, here's my boogie.' 'Your what?' 'My nose boogie.''I don't want your boogie, Ives.' 'But why not?' Face falls. 'Take my boooogieee..' And so it rolls.) I am in real need of a tiny break so I can have the distance to miss and appreciate my two little buddies. This stay-at-home Mum needs some be-in-world time.
This weekend I am heading away for two days with the ladies - hens weekend! It couldn't come at a better time. Lucy, organiser extraordinaire, sent me this email: Penthouse suite. The ladies. Karaoke downstairs. Adult incontinence diapers.
Full report later, if I'm not in custody.