We have patches of ice like little drifts of snow all over our garden. Poor lemon tree.
The rain on the roof last night scared Una. 'I'm scared of the rain,' she said, so I told her a long story about how the rain comes down to give all the flowers and trees and birds a drink while the hail battered down on the tin roof, like a million nails (which comforted her until I left the room). Then Martin got her up and gave her some hail to eat - the ultimate overcoming of your enemy, to absorb some of its essence inside you, to eat it up. You can't be scared of a monster you can eat.
The girls are wearing their backpacks even though it's an hour until kinder and are outside exploring, they've just gone to see if there's ice on the tire swing. I predict a last minute hurried change of clothes before kinder starts. Una's going to kinder today too and so am I. I'm going to be the kinder mum. You know, the lady who hands out the drinks and maks awkward conversation with the four year olds and tries to divine which primary school all the kids are going to. I thought I should because they all think its really WEIRD that Martin does most of the kinder stuff. They had a dad's day at the kinder a few weeks ago, and I wondered briefly if I should go along too. Hmm. Awkward.
Eating ice ... that sounds like omething from a fairytale. I have images of Narnia for some reason. (I didn't say it was logical.)ReplyDelete
Hey, in lots of families nobody does anything to help with kinder, except pick the kids up and drop them off (from necessity of course - I'm not picking - and that was me). Sounds like between you, you and Martin are doing an ace job of being kinder mum and dad.