Holiday. Etymologically speaking that's holy + day.
Quite fitting for today really as I needed all the divine help I could get.
We just had one of those headbutting kinda days.
The days where "logic" and "reason" have different interpretations depending on which generation you ask.
It started out small. Amy had a little strop because she wanted to go for a walk and I had said sure but let me hang out the washing first. (I know, I know, squander precious time with my children on housework but we go through a lot of clothes here...) Foot stamping, hair flicking, screaming ensued about how revoltingly selfish mummy was: "You always do what you want to do, first. You never do what I want to do." Still on my Zen calm my-river-will-slowly-wear-down-your-rock (is that Zen or Confucius?) parenting jag I calmly explained that actually washing is not something I choose to do and certainly not something I consider a selfish act but rather a necessity if she would like to keep her toosh covered in clean clothes. After an encore performance (just to prove she's got vocal range second only to Mariah) she agreed to hang all the smalls for me. Power to the Zen mummy!
We went out for our walk and came back without incident. I went inside to get a coffee and the girls stayed out playing in the yard. After a while Meg called me out to see what they'd made. They were filthy. And shoeless. But not sockless. They had emptied buckets of rain water onto a muddy patch in the (poor, hard done by) lawn and made a slurry pit. Fabulous. The water had slopped in their gumboots so they took them off. The mud soaked through their snow boots so they took them off. "But why did you go out in your socks???" "Because you told us not to play in the mud in our sneakers and our boots were already wet!" Oh Holy Day.
Midafternoon malaise set in and I decided we should go through the overflowing lost sock basket and attempt some reunions. We did quite well with Meg the winner with 5 pairs of no longer MIA socks. Left the room to take K's and my socks to our wardrobes and came back to find a veritable mountain of socks. The sock equivalent of that snake scene in Indiana Jones. "What....?!"
"We brought all our socks from our drawers and pulled them apart so we can find more pairs!"
Big. Deep. Breath. Oh Holy Day.
After heading into town to pick up stuff Amy needs for kinder tomorrow (of course they've changed the regulation placemat sizes and apron fastenings since Meg was in the 4 year old class a whole two years ago so I am running around trying to adapt everything) I found a 'we couldn't deliver your parcel' notice in the mailbox. Bit different from the usual one it said "We'll redeliver between 5-7 tonight." Wooo, a parcel. Yeah. Ditched my vacuuming plans, kept the music down, didn't turn the kitchen exhaust fan on, unlocked the door and kept one ear on it from 5-7. Not easy seeing as that's dinner and bath time but hey- for a parcel? Doable. 7:00 came and went. 7:30 arrived. My student will be here at 8 and I would really like to clean the detritus off the floor- at least the top layer anyway. Getting a bit huffy now I re-read the postcard- " we couldn't deliver the parcel we were re-delivering between 5-7 tonight' and tonight was dated yesterday.... Darn it. This postcard applies to the parcel that was delivered yesterday. Now I think of it I remember the postie mentioning that he had just put the non-delivery notice in the slot when I drove in. Grrr. A whole evening spent with my ear on the door and no parcel to show for it? Oh Holy Day.
Thank goodness kinder goes back tomorrow. With or without regulation sized placemats.