Life is good. Sure, money is a bit of a worry at the moment, and I keep hoping each day my crb check will land on the mat - and hey presto, I'll then be registered and can start working as a childminder! Money doesn't mean much to me really, it's necessary to pay rent, food etc and it's nice to be able to buy things from charity shops and perhaps a little more spare to indulge that passion would be nice; but overall I'm not fussed by money.
I would be very happy to live in a society that bartered; the social interaction, the game, the bartering of goods made or produced to gain something else - how exciting and fulfilling.
Nonetheless, dream aside, life is joyful, not always easy; but then that is what makes the joyful parts so special and wonderful.
Completing Devonmama's dog portrait took me into the wee hours last night, as I'd declare it finished, and then end up changing something else, strengthening a shadow here, a highlight there, adjusting an angle. There were even a few changes these morning before posting. I'm not entirely happy with it but the photos I had to work from were normal photos of a beloved family pet and not really big or detailed enough for me, add to that the dog is dark brown/black, so quite a bit of artistic license going on to try and get the feel of the dog into the portrait, some personality - not entirely sure I've suceeded. :( I took a photo last night so I'll post that once Devonmama receives the portrait. Anyway, into the wee hours last night; so this morning I was especially tired.
Tractor Tom DVD this morning was my friend as Rye watched it while I tried to convince my eyelids that it really was time to open and greet the morning sun. Rye jumping on top of me was the winning argument and I reluctantly dragged myself from bed. Today was one of those days where going out wasn't just a fun activity it was absolute necessity. I knew if I stayed around the house I would end up on the sofa trying to nap, Rye would end up on top of me bouncing, running cars over my arms, head and boobs and generally getting on my nerves, until like a geyser, my blood would boil and I'd end up exploding into raging, mad eyed mama.
The beach was the right decision. Rye dug in the sand, built sandcastles, jumped on sandcastles, ran around in mad toddler style and made new friends with anyone willing to chase him and build sand castles with him. The only blight is when a little girl ran over and gave Rye a ball, a man, I'm assuming her dad, scooped her back up and took the little girl back to the area of beach they were sitting in, but left the ball. Rye appropriated the ball, the wind took said ball scuttling off across the sand, with little toddler legs galloping after and a frantic mama crying "COME BACK". Waste of time, what 2 year old is going to listen to mama when there's a bright red ball to chase? So, I had to go and collect him from the other end of the beach; thankfully, he is scared of the sea so he didn't follow the ball when it rolled into the rocky pools nearby. This mama was not best pleased, partly out of fear, he'd put a terrific amount of distance between us so quickly and if he had gone to the water I would have been too far away to stop him.
Once the ball did go near the sea he did give up his quest and begin trundling back toward me, as I strode across the sands muttering a dire threats and feeling really quite cross. I remained calm though and merely knelt down and told him that he must never run away like, stay close, the usual. Then we trudged back to where our things were at the other end of the beach.
Once home, it became obvious my little man was worn out, so bath to remove the sand from places where there shouldn't be sand, minor hysteria when I insisted on washing his hair, clean nappy, pj's, clean teeth, settle down for a breastfeed and quickly and easily off to dreamland..... all by twenty five to seven.
And of course, he's woken up. Sigh.
He's tired beyond belief, and gives the impression he's asleep until I move and then those little eyelids shoot back to reveal imploring blue eyes and the face crumbles and the wailing starts. He's doing his "I'm soo tired but I'll have a little wail to see if mummy comes running", and wow look at, before I even finished typing the sentence it's gone quiet :)
We'll see how long it lasts...