This is NOT my joy. This is burnt baking. Burnt acrid smelling cookies spread out into one giant solid cookie. Lucky for me I doubled the recipe cos I was babysitting and I didn’t fancy having to tell a 5 year old that Steph burnt the cookies and we had no more butter. He was so adamant that we had to bake something to eat this time – the salt dough ornaments were a little confusing to him in December – baking that you can’t eat? Why?
This is also definitely not my joy – yet. My first try at knitting in the round. My second attempt really. The first try, despite my careful efforts, got twisted and I had to redo the cast on row. This attempt has an untwisted cast on row and looser stitches so here’s hoping. I’m looking forward to many projects in the round, sitting and rocking on the lazyboy. That lazyboy is my joy. I should rename it a lazygirl.
The thing that is my joy? Today it was all the moments that I couldn’t photograph because I was too busy living them. We bought a $2 ball from a discount store to keep at my house when Ashton comes again next week and today he and I spent 10 minutes chasing and kicking and throwing and screaming in the back yard. I got too puffed (asthma) after that but it was so fun. We bought the house because we saw that backyard and I immediately imagined kids running around in it. And today one did. And thanks to my big weight loss (21.3kg!) I could run around with him. And on our way home from the shops today with the ball we bought ‘smiley faces’ from the bakery and sat on a park bench at the ‘trick ramps’ (skate park) and ate them together. Oh there were hard bits today too – oh my GOD there was hard bits. He fell off his scooter. Twice. And his bike. Twice. There was a bloody nose and a stubbed heel. And tears – loud, loud tears. And sulking. And every day as soon as he leaves I promptly eat something really fattening and flop onto the couch. Yesterday on my day off I slept right through until 11am. But the good bits? They were great. I only have 400 grams left to lose before the doctor will refer me for fertility treatment (ONLY 400 GRAMS TO GO!!!!) – that’s if all my stress eating this week is balanced out by the outrageous amounts of exercise I am wracking up chasing after him! And it was such a boost to see what it’s like. Not in a childcare centre, not with someone helping me but just ‘us’. Me and a kid doing our thing. Yelling hello to the mail lady and the constant ‘will you buy me this?’ (‘no, I’m not your mother!’ I’ll miss that excuse when I am the mother of the kid asking me that!) and the threats of Time Out and the cuddles and going to the grocery store and baking and just being a parenty type. I want it. I’m so close. 400 grams more to lose, a 10 month waiting list then finally the stirrups and injections and just maybe a baby. So close.
(My ability to gloss over the hard parts of the day may also be related to the fact I got paid for the weeks work today and his mum slipped me 10% extra. Money will sway me every time.)