think little

Some days it's all rush rush rush round here, and not much else. 

I'm ashamed to say there's raised voices (usually mine: WILL YOU GET IN THE CAR.)

There's no enjoying the moment. There's no perfect pastoral family scene. There can even be moments when I think bitterly, this sucks. Enough to forget all the good stuff, and to think about what's not happening, the places I'm not wandering, the calm I'm not feeling, the life I'm not living. 

I rush into my bedroom to spend the precious half an hour left of Ivy's daytime nap attempting to sort out my out-of-control wardrobe and I find this:



Still in her ballet class stuff, with my iphone and Adam's headphones, listening to the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack. 

And sometimes she looks so like me when I was little it gives me a pang, and reminds me to think little.

Stop the rush.

Drop everything and listen to some favourite music.

Wear a leotard. 




Oh and legwarmers. 




Thinking little. Where your biggest worries are whether Mum remembered to buy the green food colouring to make "Tinkerbell Magic Meringues" and whether the white goose will chase you when you're trying to get into the car but it's between you and the car and you'd rather take on Mum yelling than the damn goose. 

I'm unplugging here and am going to listen to some favourite music. 

Hope your day had redeeming legwarmers in it. 


P.S. Sourdough starter still looking good! Good bubbles, nice and gluteny, looking lively!




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