First day of the holidays. Up and out early for the train. Son1’s uncontainable excitement at the train, every sign on the train, the view, the tunnels and the wheels. Deciding to walk in the sunny sun sunshine instead of the tube. Good chats with the husbandface. Blue skies and the pretty buildings of wealthy London. Feeling alive and awake. Fun of the museum. Big toothless grins all day from son2. Steak and chips for dinner and a big glass of red wine. Delighting in my favourite boys/man all day long. Happy grateful sigh.
Paying attention 3
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Paying attention 2
The last Friday of this half term. Aware of my brain coming awake today, thoughts swirling in the midst of the relentless everyday. Son1’s insistence on cuddles. Son2’s insane smiles up at me from his feeding. Baking whoopie pies with son1. Wine and sausages to kick start a week of a 2:2 ratio with the boys.
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Paying attention 1
Remembering I love the details of this life and need to pay attention, so I can be drawn once more to the Maker of them. The support of great friends on a day which could have gone pear shaped very quickly, given the start to it. The soothing power of the gruffalo. Husbandface not having tutoring after all tonight.
Posted in Life on the journey
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Old school blogging, this one doesn’t even have a picture…
So, the boys are asleep at the same time and, obviously I have no idea what to do with empty time, so I’ve been re-reading some of my blog. This year marks my 10th year of blogging. Some resurrecting of old posts will happen sometime in the summer but for now I’ve been reminded again of my love of the details. Skimming a few posts from when I started this weird putting some internal thoughts on line thing I’ve been reminded that I love the details of life.
Life is so full on right now, there is so much lack of sleep around that I feel dazed and out of touch with everything that isn’t related to the two small limpets that follow me around everywhere. I’ve become too self pitying and tempted to just fill my whole thought life with ‘woe is me, I’m so tired, I’ve had no sleep, do you realise how hard having children is’ thoughts. But really, there is more to life than the tiny people, and they really do bring much joy in life as well.
So, I’m back to remembering the details (which weirdly I once did for a whole year and then again for 40 days 4 years ago), the good things about days, the small moments, the warmth of sun on skin, the taste of tea first thing in the morning, the smell of baked bread, the sound of my favourite song, the touch of another’s hand in the darkness. I need to look around and pay attention again. I love this world, I love it’s Maker and I long to remember.
And, meh, it’s February so we could all do with a little bit of remembering the finer points of this life in the gloomy wait for spring. I want to attempt to write about more than just the softness of my children’s hands (although they are pretty soft and beautiful) I look back at my old posts and they seemed to contain so much more variety and depth than I feel life has right now (or maybe I just whiffled on and on about the Lake District). I want to remember and embrace all the scope of life, as well as accepting that my vision is very child focused right now because I have a 2 yr old and 4month old in my face each day.
Anyway, here’s to finding joy in the details once more, I think it’ll be a Lent thing (that gives me a nice ordered length of time) but will start now because who needs to be restricted by these things?
Onwards. Um. I’ll be back here tonight with some finer points of the day to cheer my soul and remember the One who made them.
Your Correspondent, getting all old school about this blogging thing, and even writing this spontaneously on my computer. Woot.
Posted in Life on the journey
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Binface…
I’ve lost count of the people over the years who ask: ‘why is she called Binface?’ I accept that she just is now. When we pray for her, we pray for Binface. Son1 doesn’t know she has another name. I can’t wait for that moment of realisation when he works out that people just aren’t called things like Binface.
So to set the record straight. Here’s how it started:
A long long long time ago we both worked for an organisation who worked with students. One of our solaces on training conferences was each other and throughout our chats it became clear that she loved being insulted, (if it came from someone she knew loved her deeply) go figure. She also loved a good old swear. I’m not naturally a sweary or insulting person so I think she found it doubly hilarious to be insulted by me. She also loves a good nickname.
And so it came to be that one day, in the midst of her demanding I insult her, I called her Binface. Because, well, she has a face like a f**king bin. (Of course she doesn’t. It’s a beautiful face. But she liked it.) It stuck and forever more she shall be known as Binface, or Auntie Binface if you are one of our sons.
The story is only complete if you know that she calls me Peach. Because I have a face like a peachy peach (blush). Thus whenever we are together and people find out our names I, for some reason, come off as the harsh one insulting her friend. She comes across as the lovely sweet one calling me Peach. What they don’t realise is that I’m actually doing her a great service by sacrificing my loveliness and saying this continual insult 😉
The Long Walk Home 