Last night we went for a walk. Cameron was not sleeping – not settling – not happy. So I snuggled him into the wrap sling, we popped on some shoes and put a beanie on his head and strolled off into the crisp night air.
We walked around the lakes and got talking… About how last time we walked this route I was 41 weeks pregnant, it was 1 PM and (unbeknownst to us) in early labour.
I talked about how I want to decorate and create Cameron’s (and his future siblings) playroom.
Dealing with PND (which I won’t go into on a Magic Mondays post) means I’m constantly attempting to inject my life with positivity… to fight through the funk. I try to always do what makes me happy. Colourful things. Silly things. Beautiful things.
Like late night walks.
As we walked home with a sleeping Cammy-bug, I envisioned drawing hop-scotch squares in chalk on the pathways and video-taping our children playing. I imagined framing finger painted creatures and ‘baking’ in the sandpit.
I want to be the Mum that the littlies at school know. I want my house to be somewhere fun and safe that children want to come to for playdates.
I know it cannot always be sunshine and rainbows and lollipops but as we walked in silence and I smelt the bbq dinner a few doors down, heard the faint sound of rock music and the crickets surrounding the water I thought of those other moments and those other days. The magical ones.
I remembered my childhood and where it was all about painting snails shells with fingernail polish, racing my cat around in a cardboard box, cartwheels, water slides, climbing the compost heap to get on the garage roof in my nightie, pretending my bike was a car and riding around the block a billion times, reading goosebump books, creating forts (I always made the best ones), playing schools/grocery shops/vets/etc with my little sister, playing marbles and lego and all things childlike and simple.
And I realised that I get to re-live that (and more) through my children.
And that is pretty awesome.