So sometimes I have an idea for a post but being the lazy time poor woman I am, I can't write it immediately so save a draft title with a few notes to remind me of what it was about.
I've just been browsing through my drafts to see if there was anything I could turn into a completed post tonight. I was looking for something relatively quick because I am lazy time poor.
Under the above title "Breath" I found these words…
Really? Just…really? How lazy time poor can one little mumma truly be?
And how forgetful? On Thursday, I arrived at Zig's playgroup to pick him up and was met by a tide of parents and grandparents coming out as I was going in.
"Wow, there's quite a crowd for pick-up today!" I remarked to Donna, one of the carers.
"Yes, the children had their Christmas concert…," she answered, a question mark lingering at the end of her sentence. Like, didn't you know?
No. I didn't know. They sang Jingle Bells and wore Santa hats. They did a dance! And while the other children performed for their parents and in some cases, their grandparents, Ziggy sang to no-one. I can't describe the sick feeling of disappointment that curled a knot in my stomach. And when my little guy came running towards me, a huge (and thankfully, oblivious) smile on his sweet face, it was all I could do not to cry.
"This isn't his last session, is it?" I already knew the answer.
Fuck. I know I talk about how balls in the air seem to regularly fall down upon my muddled head but fuck. FUCK.
Next week I will head into the centre to drop off presents for his lovely teachers who he won't see again as he is heading to 3 year old kinder next year. But I can't go back and see his concert. The concert he did on the last day of a playgroup he has loved so much.
And though he has not thought of it since and was seemingly unaware that we were even missing in the first place, I am shattered. As is Bren. I know there may be times in the future when we simply can't be at every school event but both Bren and I were around on this particular day and could have, should have been there.
In other news, I went to the gym yesterday but because I am nursing a still sore ankle from a Body Attack mishap (read: clumsy fool falls on arse thereby bringing full class of exercisers to a screaming (and gawking) halt), I decided to swim laps instead. I haven't done that since I lived in an apartment complex with a pool years ago. I do recall that I used to wear a cap and goggles back then but yesterday I went without because, hey, how bad can the chlorine truly be?
OH. SWEET. LORD. My eyes were burrrrrrrrrning. Half way through THE FIRST LAP. Some nine hours later, they were still bothering me. I could smell the chlorine all over me despite having showered and washed my hair.
I plan to avoid naked flames for the next few days at least.
I sent a text to Bren with a photo and the caption Swimming Without Goggles Eyeball Fail. I would not normally share such a photo with you because I look like something out of Watership Down (think bunnies, think Myxomatosis).
I am quite happy to expose myself as a shitty parent who forgets Christmas concerts but god forbid you should think I'm not pretty….
But here it is anyway, edited to reduce the impact…
All I can see in this photo is the bloodshot eye, the unbelievably unflattering angle of my nose and the uneven skin tone (hidden well by the black and white filter).
But according to his text reply, here's what Bren saw;
I think this is what they mean when they talk about unconditional love…
A click for Christmas cheer!
What, no comments on this one? Do you reckon people were shocked by the eye? Holy shiz … that must burn.
Goggles are a good idea. You can try wearing them to Body Attack too and see how that goes … maybe …