Quiet times

My house is quiet. Very quiet. The kids are gone, that’s why.

They have gone to H’s parents’ summerhouse (it’s fabulous – in the middle of a wood and right next to the beach. My kids love it) and all I can hear is the gentle tinkle of the water feature. Oh, and the telly. Although I love peace and quite, the telly is my companion.  Not that I mind being on my own because I don’t. I am very used to it.  H has always worked evenings and when the kids have gone to bed, it’s just me. I like it. I feel safe knowing that he is coming home but at the same time, I have the solitude I often crave after a long, noisy day with my boys.

I am sitting here thinking how wonderful everything is turning out to be. Before coming I had massive reservations (mentioned previously) and the biggest one was H’s family. Don’t get me wrong, they are genuinely lovely people, just a little over-zealous and controlling at times. We are in the process of buying their family home (they have lived here for over 35 years and this was H’s childhood home) and they have moved to an apartment a stone’s throw away. My worry was that they would appear at the window every five minutes (cooo-eee, it’s only me), drop by without notice and just generally get in my face. I told H that they just wouldn’t be able to help themselves.

Well, it’s time for me to stuff those words right back in my mouth and hope I don’t choke on them. They have gone out of their way to avoid doing exactly that. In fact, on the odd occasion H’s dad has popped in, he has stayed only a few minutes and almost apologised for being there, even though most of his visits have been to help us out in some way. I have seen H’s mum twice in two weeks, both times fleetingly.

The best part about it is that my kids can pop down to see them every day. They have got into a little routine of coming home from school, having a snack and cycling down (there are no roads to be wary of). I can’t explain how this makes me feel, but it’s all good. It is comforting, I guess. Up until now they haven’t really had that daily contact with grandparents and it literally warms my heart to think of the strong bond they are building with them. It also warms my heart to think of how much H’s parents want to be a part of my kids’ lives. They didn’t really have that with my parents. My parents are odd. They never really paid a great deal of attention to me, so I guess it was a bit silly to expect any different for my kids. More on this at a later date, I think. All a bit heavy and I am in a light kind of mood, so we’ll leave for now!

So, I have had a very productive day. It’s amazing just how much you can get done when your kids aren’t here with their endless requests and constant fighting. I have spent hours cleaning their bedrooms – I’ve seriously never seen so many bits of Lego. It has literally carpeted the little one’s bedroom since I’ve been here and there are only so many “Lego-foot” accidents you can take. The upstairs of the house now looks uncluttered and clean. My brains works the same way as my home – if it’s messy and cluttered then my brain echoes this and I feel agitated. The old adage of: “tidy house,  tidy mind” really is true in my case.

I’ve also been doing a little work on online. I am sick of working in the rat race. I don’t like bureaucracy and I don’t like bosses. Ideally, I would love a job that involves writing, but as we ascertained yesterday, formal grammar is not my bag. I have signed up for a click-working job, albeit one that pays peanuts. I’m not knocking it though – peanuts taste pretty scrummy when you’re hungry. So, today I have earned nearly 10 Euros. I’m not going to rival Donald Trump any time soon, but 10 Euros is better than a kick in the head. And, if I earn the same amount every day, it will give me just enough to feel like I am contributing, which in turn will make me feel better about myself.

I also managed to take the little rat (also known as the dog) for a walk and encountered two little girls. They asked me if they could stroke the dog and while they did, we engaged in a little conversation. Okay, they were talking and I was doing my usual deer-caught-in-a-headlamp, jabbering buffoon impression. I didn’t understand a word they said, but what struck me was that they didn’t care. They didn’t care that I stumbled over words and they didn’t show any signs that they had even noticed it. I love the uncomplicated innocence of children. The first day I picked up my little one, a small boy asked me what strange language I spoke. He then asked me which country I lived in. He took my answers in his stride as though he encountered English women every day. I learnt a lot from that. I’ve learnt that I should chill out, take it on the chin and enjoy it. We only live once, after all.

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