Friday, 29 November 2013

Some of the small things, like …

Like every now and then, how after football club on a saturday morning, we pop into our local french cafe and buy this boy a macaron or two. And just like his mama, he doesn't savour them, no, he just shoves the whole thing in his mouth for the ultimate experience! 

Like how it's become our tradition to go back to the same place each year to see a fireworks display. And each year, we are more organised than the previous and remember an additional comfort, be it hats and gloves, sparklers or hot coffee in a flask. Or like this year when we advanced to hot chocolate in a flask which we drank out of plastic cups for that seventies feel.

Like when we made it home from our bonfire night and fireworks adventure and we were cold and hungry and homemade, still gooey halva flapjack was waiting for us. And how we suddenly didn't have a single regret about it being too hot to take with us because it was so much better to talk about it in the car on the way home and finally to enjoy it when we got back.

Like the times we spend in the woods hiding and seeking and finding dens. Taking them over and making them ours and creating a little Tolkien magic of our own right on the edge of the city we call home. 

Like finding the first signs that christmas is coming and overloading on kitsch. Lingering in shops that we'd normally simply pass by and suddenly we're pulled and drawn in and we just cannot leave … for a while at least, as the first excited flutters of christmas stir in us. And for those that know me, this is powerful because I am indeed a grinch by nature.

Like finding the eldest reading to the youngest, seeing them pressed up against each other as close as close can be, and hearing that eldest boy reading with such expression and feeling such peace in that one moment.

Like three boys being blown away by the view when we stayed in a b&b surrounded by rambling hills and awesome autumn country scenes! And being ok with their three transfixed faces because this is what happens when you don't stream television in your own house, and when you're suddenly faced with the choice of channels it feels like christmas! Even the part of christmas where you realise there's really nothing to watch and there are way more fun things to do like jumping on beds!

Like jumping on beds that don't belong to you … just 'cause' you wanna! 

Like when independence means making mistakes and when the 'trying your best' part is the important part, and so your mama gets out of bed and tells you it's ok and forfeits her sunday morning lie in. Like the face of disappointment that the eldest pulled at things not working out and the lovely smiles that followed when I for once held it together and said 'there's no point crying over spilt milk'. I didn't actually say those words, but words to that effect. However, if i'd thought of it at the time I would have said those exact words and I would have smiled at my clever self.  

Like watching him as he plays with his Dads hands knowing that this is a memory being made right before my eyes. And each and every time he sits in his daddy's lap, he executes his performance with the same precision and one day he will speak of this and his heart will ache with longing at the beauty of this small thing.

Like the persistent 'nice mit yu' peace sign pose they kept up all through the half term holidays that started to drive me crazy!

Like discovering your hubby of 18 years goes really soppy over swans when you had no clue.

Like discovering your eldest boys improvised music stand and feeling that for once that talk about 'using common sense' is unnecessary.

Like explaining to this kid that Joey Santiago, Jimi Hendrix and our very own guitar hero Joseph Welden all had to practice, practice, practice!

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