August 12, 2012
Lately, I haven't felt like saying or doing much. The lack of sleep and resultant difficulty finding the energy to connect with the boys (husband included) has meant I feel a little withdrawn and I'm back at that place where I'm doubting my ability to do this parenting thing. It's that same place fraught with uncertainty over the future, the homesickness and the feeling that I am bearing the weight of the world on my shoulders. I know I'm not, it just feels that way.
Still. I managed to sit down and do some silly collaging with Ollie and Max the other day, and it was something we all enjoyed. Max especially loved getting sticky and messy, and it was so sweet to connect with him in the fug that has been concentrating on bonding with Hugo. The boys' creations now take pride of place in the frame of this Dali print that let's face it, pales in comparison to what they made.
Our house continues to become their house, with their belongings taking over what was once a grown up space, their noise permeating every inch of this little wooden home we live in and their artwork taking centre stage over the paintings and prints that used to adorn our walls. Our house. Really, it's their house and we are but lucky to live in it.