The SAHM thing (or “stay-at-home-mum thing” for those of you who don’t deal in the currency of parenting acronyms) is working out pretty well so far. Sadly I don’t feel like I have a tonne more time to do all those Sally Ridge craft projects I had planned (seashell lampshade anyone?) but the time I do have has been way less stressful.
I’m getting the stuff done around the house that needs to be done. I’m managing to get dinner on the table, and most nights it has some nutritional value. LV and I are spending time visiting family and friends. The Big Shop is getting done on time each week. The washing isn’t coming to life in the corner of the laundry.
Sure I might not have fashioned a macrame dreamcatcher or glued bits of crap onto a perfectly good vase, but I’ve kept us all clean, watered and fed – and that’s a win in my books.
Now as for my little pal, my best friend and perpetual mess-maker, he’s doing great. I’m talking about little Vic by the way, just so we’re clear.
He’s fifteen months now and is a total crack-up. He’s started throwing out the occasional word – “ta”, “dada”, “Stella”, “ball” – though only when he feels like it, certainly not on command. He’s an expert crawler and climber but doesn’t seem too keen on walking just yet. His coffee group counterparts were all waddling around months ago, but I figure he takes after me in the up-and-at-’em stakes seeing as I didn’t start walking until I was eighteen months. He’s a chilled-out kid, always has been and I’m beginning to think he always will be.