Lifting the funk

I had so many plans of things that I wanted to accomplish during the school holidays, of things that I wanted to do with the kids and for the kids -yet the past week and a half (the holidays are only two weeks) I have spent in a serious funk. I have had no energy or desire to do anything. At all. I have read quite a bit. Slept. And mostly stayed home with the children. We have had two playdates. Two. Whether it was just that we were all overworked and overwhelmed and just really needed some down time, or weather the planets have been misaligned or I am entering a mid-life crisis I really cannot say. Thankfully the funk has lifted, somewhat, the past couple of days and I have begun to enter serious party planning mode. Prior to this I had merely managed to do bits and pieces like cut some fabric panels and print treasure box templates to accompany the invitations which I only managed to mail a few of days ago. (The party is tomorrow. See what I mean? A serious funk. I just didn't care and couldn't be bothered. I told myself that I still have time...And then yesterday dawned. My funk was slightly lifted, my head a little clearer and I had a better realization about all there is to do.

In an appropriately panicked mode I dragged the children around to the various shops gathering miscellaneous food supplies, timber boards and large, discarded, boxes. They were so patient and sweet until we hit the fabric store where two individuals (who shall remain nameless) ran amuck through the faux fur section, gave me a nervous twitch in the paint and craft supplies and caused numerous ladies to stop, laugh and offer sympathetic smiles in the quilter's corner. We left the store with fabric, paints and an extra 1,000 meters of German sewing thread (because I used up the previous 1,000 meters sewing for Ruhi's birthday party...1,000 meters....indeed) We headed back home with a very disagreeable boy, a disgruntled sister and a disgraced mother who, despite the fact that it was barely 11am, had had just about enough for the day.

But there was so much more to come and so much more to do. In between finishing off the decorations and pirate flag with intermittent "help" from a few enthusiastic pedal pushers; in the midst of stitching together 24 bean bags (ahem - I mean cannon balls) and having further "help" filling them with obscure beans and old baby pasta (much of which wound up all over the floor); in between wrapping up the pass the parcel (which, in tying with our theme, consisted of the gorgeous storybook The Sign of the Seahorse and various ocean figurines) and doing various cleaning jobs throughout the house I also had the pleasure of responding to frequent frenzied calls of "MOOOOOMMMMM!" Twitch. Twitch. Normally this was followed by: "Bayan did..." "Bayan said..." or "I can't open the door." Mehran "fixed" the sliding door, only now none of the kids can open it and any time they want to go in or out I have to play doorman. Twitch. Twitch. Below is one such example of what Bayan did while I was finishing off some party favour pencil pouches ( I love these. They are from The Creative Family book by Amanda Soule, except that in my funk induced state I didn't refer to her instructions or measure anything. Hers are much better, as was Martha's prototype that inspired me to even attempt this, but I like these anyway. They are super fun to sew. I made 12 slots for pencils, and then tweaked the design by adding a larger slot for a coloring in sheet, later a ruler should fit in the space, plus two little pockets for a pirate coin and an organic lollipop - it is a party after all- and later on perhaps the pockets can serve as a spot to put an eraser and pencil sharpener... anyway back to Bayan) who was outside doing this: rearranging the pirate planks, upturning furniture, relocating the outdoor play equipment and repositioning the sprinkler system that he then turned on in order to better moisten the pergola and anything else unlucky enough to be in range. And look: he is so proud of his efforts. I was slightly less impressed. While I cleaned up, the girls started painting rocks (Bayan did manage to wash them...but we had were issues there as well).

We are making little pirate pouches containing gold and silver nuggets, sparkly white rocks and seashells which the kids will search for using spy glasses made out of long rolls of brown paper and aquarium contact paper.I was summoned outside once again only this time it was not Bayan, but rather Bangles who was causing the chaos. He had caught the little blue tongue lizard that resides (rather reclusively I must confess) in out back garden. He was playing with the poor little thing much to the lizards distress.

This is one courageous lizard. He stood his ground and hissed at Bangles for all he was worth. I'm not sure that I would have had the gumption. Bangles was unperturbed and found him most fascinating. He was rather dismayed when he was carried inside and placed under house arrest. The lizard, however, was offered food and drink by two doting youngsters and then disappeared into the garden again. Meanwhile there were pirate ships to paint. We got two large boxes and painted a pirate ship on each one. Holes will be cut in each box and cannonballs will be fired.

I had lots of help with these and just when I thought I could not stand the thought of anymore "help" especially as it was getting late, Bayan came to stand beside me in the kitchen. He dragged over a chair, washed his hands and relieved me of the electric mixer, blasting a fine spray of chocolate across the kitchen in the process, but we won't dwell on that. Instead let's dwell on this: I was hit by an overwhelming warm and fuzzy feeling as this little one (who is not so very little anymore and who singlehandedly had caused me to teeter on the brink of at least 17 different types of nervous breakdowns throughout the day) stood beside me in his pyjamas blissfully savoring the last drops of chocolate batter from the beaters. He closed his eyes and was so very just in the moment. It was a wonderful reminder that I needed to do the same thing. Forget about what I needed to get done and let some things go...there just is not time and no one will know that the cupcakes which will be dusted with cookie crumb sand were meant to have marzipan starfish gently nestled on top. So, forget the starfish. Remember the child. Remember the joy of just being in the moment, of making it fun instead of making in perfect. The most uplifting moment of my day was so simple. Just standing beside my son and watching him savor a process, without worrying about anything else. Children are the best teachers. Thank you Bayan for reminding me about what is really important. Thank you for reminding me to stop, to enjoy, to slow down and to remember the beauty that every moment can bring.