Baby, you had me at condensed milk.
I’ve been giving Sam more treats lately. Not every day and certainly not every meal, but you know, I’m like he’s three, almost three-and-a-half. He can have a damn cookie. So he gets treats like Tiny Teddies, Hello Panda and the occasional Ferrero Rocher (only when he’s been very very good mainly because that’s my treat).
Thursday is my favourite day of the week. Every day has its own merits – Mondays to Wednesdays I have no kids, sometimes I’m working, often I catch up with friends and eat ice cream. So by all means, they’re good days. Fridays I have both kids (read: hectic) but we also have our regular FriYAY playdate so that’s fun. Saturdays and Sundays need no explanation. But Thursdays are my favourite, and they’re the ones I spend with Sofi.
I’m lucky that my kids are pretty good eaters. They eat most things happily – and the things don’t even have to be cute, that’s just my own little obsession – and eat meat (chicken, pork, beef) like it’s going out of fashion. I try and get fish into them at least once a week, and my go-to dishes (which I know they’ll like) are either steamed barramundi with ginger & black bean sauce, or salmon & sweet potato patties. Last night I tried a new one on them – baked honey soy salmon.
I had a really random thought about my mum the other night. Literally, late at night before I fell asleep, a memory that had never been more than a passing thought popped into my head. I recalled my first day of kindergarten. My mum had taken me to school on the back of her push bike and introduced me to my new friends and teachers. I wasn’t too phased initially and wandered into the room, curious about everything around me. I looked back and my mum was there by the window, with all the other mums, waving – probably holding back tears – but putting on a brave face for their little people, starting school for the first time. I waved at my mum, and wandered further into the room. A few minutes later, I turned to look again and my mum had gone. Panic swelled from my heart to my throat. I cried and cried.
Everyone who knows me knows that I have a “mum uniform”. I wear my uniform so frequently I even have the tan lines to prove it. My staple is: denim shorts (or jeans in cooler weather) and a singlet or t-shirt, in varying shades of grey. On my feet I wear either a pair of Converse kicks or Ipanema flip-flops. And hair up.
And that my friends, is the mundanity that is my wardrobe.