The one where I dish the dirt

Whilst I wouldn't say I was obsessed with cleaning, I do like to think that I keep my house in a reasonably clean and tidy state.  I hope that if you popped over for an unplanned (but always very welcome) cuppa with me that you would find the house looking tidy but lived in.  There may well be dishes in the sink that need washing, Playstation leads across the lounge floor, and paperwork piled on the table ready to be filed - but all in all - it is generally tidy and comfortable to be in.  That is my understanding anyway.

Which is why, last week, when I had the afternoon free to do some housework, I had a little bit of a shock!  Perhaps my idea of a clean and tidy house really needs to be revisited and revised!  Had I been deluding myself?

The next few paragraphs I do not share with ease, as it may well reveal a little bit too much for comfort.  Hopefully it wont have a negative impact on the frequency of friends' visits to the house.   I am not so sure though ... as I know how shocked I was myself!  Am I really ready to dish the dirt?! 

Having dusted and polished the entire house, I turned my attention to the carpets; it was time to vacuum.  I carried the vacuum cleaner upstairs, turned it on, and set to it.  In no time at all, upstairs was finished.  However, it was a while before I made my way down the stairs.  I couldn't believe it.  I stared at the vacuum cleaner, which sat proudly upright in my son's bedroom.  It was as if it smuggly said: 'Look how dirty your house is!'  and believe me - it was!!  Gross!

Warning: For those of you who have a 'thing' with dirt - I suggest you quickly abort this post - and find a 'cleaner' one to read ...

The one with the handprints

Yesterday at Twinkling Stars Toddler Group we made handprints.  I say 'we' deliberately, as I also decided to put my hands in the paint!  'Such fun!'

My Handprints - to remind me how quickly I am growing up!! :)  

The handprints joined a poem about growing up and were named and dated before going through the laminator.  The children enjoyed getting their hands messy, and the parents were pleased to have a record to keep of their little one's hands.  A perfect mornings work!






So, why did I choose to join in the fun?  Because I am all too aware at the moment of how quickly time goes by and how much we can lose if we do not make the most of the opportunities we are presented with.  Carpe Diem and all that!

The circumstances that led to this reflection?     A pair of shoes!

Most of you will know that when I say 'shoes' - I am not referring to the 'shiny heeled lady variety', but pumps.  Yes, I will admit to having a slight obsession with Converse.  For the last 3 months I have been searching for a pair of green Converse to add to my collection.   With all the different Converse colours around this may sound a simple mission.  It was not!  Having searched far and wide it appears this particular shade of green (it had to be just right!) is not being made by Converse in this country at the moment.  Even the online Converse shop let me down!  Sadly, I had to abort the mission.

That is, until I spotted a pair of green Converse style pumps in Superdry a few weeks ago.  They were the perfect colour!  Despite the obvious fact they weren't real Converse, I decided to give them a chance.  They fit well, were on par with Converse price, and looked great.  Fantastic.

I am now a proud owner of green pumps - the perfect colour to wear with several of my favourite tops.  End of story?  Not quite ...

The one with the proud mum

Usually my ten year old son greets me in the playground after school with a smile - but last Thursday was a different story all together.  Looking down at his feet, he slowly made his way over to where I stood.  After offering only a very quiet 'hi', he waited beside me for my nieces to come out of their classrooms.  I suspected the worst.  There I stood, pretending to search intently for the girls, when really I mentally prepared my 'it's ok, you tried your best, that is all that counts' speech.  You see, today had been a big day for him.  Having been elected onto the school council the week before, this was the day he would stand in front of the whole school and give a speech explaining why he should be elected as Chair.  His face and manner suggested the day hadn't gone all that well.

We stood in the playground for what seemed like eternity, when I took the plunge and asked how his day had gone.  'How has your day been?'  I casually asked, trying not to visibly cringe as I waited for his disheartened response. Still looking down, he answered, 'Not so good' - and just as I was about to launch into my speech, he added - 'I only got voted in as Chair!'  The toad!!

Looking pleased with himself after the elections :)

Pride began to rise up within me, quickly doing away with all the feelings of dread that had occupied my mind only seconds ago.  My boy had done it.

As I walked back to the car listening to his account of the day, it dawned on me that I would have been just as proud of him had his response to my question been different.  You see, his attitude towards the elections had, in my opinion, been exemplary.  This is why ...