Whilst running around like a blue arsed fly, it is Wednesday after all, MJC and all that.
I talk but do I listen? How many of us truly do? I talk too quickly, trying to get my words out, make my point before eyes glaze over, a cup tips, a phone buzzes, a door knocks, a child/ adult interrupts or in this house a mad scrabble to the door with cat in arms mid pee.
Time to lead by example. Time to silence the mobile, close the Ipad, put aside the magazine the book - maybe not that, another day an explanation. Laptop temporarily but perhaps conveniently broken. Cleaning can wait, it always does, never a serious distraction.
Time to just sit and listen....... once I have posted my blog of course.
Showing posts with label MJC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MJC. Show all posts
Wednesday, 26 February 2014
Wednesday, 19 February 2014
... rush around like a blue arsed fly.
because it is Wednesday and as yet the Rythmes Scolaire remain solidly free Wednesday for me and mine.
So lie-in, feet up and a sneaky lunchtime glass of vino in order.
The MJC car park buzzes as we vie for spaces, all skinny latte and useless for us poor souls endowed with good reproductive genes ensuring of need for full cream beasts to cart around our offspring.
What's that I spy nay one brave soul entering now though more rapidly exiting with chunk of trailer in tow, oh fool thee!
So think of this you politicians from above with experience not of this one special day. When else can all this happen? There goes the evening glass of wine whilst head over homework bent, the Saturday family outing, the Sunday walks and visits. Sunday schools emptied for football pitch. Memories of a Britain left.
I do digress, so roll on ce soir, dear little ones to bed shall flea and I shall poor some wine. For now it is time for me.
So lie-in, feet up and a sneaky lunchtime glass of vino in order.
Alas! Alec! whoops him again, she doth protest for today is the busiest day of all for home mother's here in France. We have violin, we have guitar, we have piano. We have to collect those poor oldies who have only a half day to fit in tennis, badminton, escrime, drama or any other hobby or leisure/not, activity they care to pursue.
The MJC car park buzzes as we vie for spaces, all skinny latte and useless for us poor souls endowed with good reproductive genes ensuring of need for full cream beasts to cart around our offspring.
What's that I spy nay one brave soul entering now though more rapidly exiting with chunk of trailer in tow, oh fool thee!
So think of this you politicians from above with experience not of this one special day. When else can all this happen? There goes the evening glass of wine whilst head over homework bent, the Saturday family outing, the Sunday walks and visits. Sunday schools emptied for football pitch. Memories of a Britain left.
I do digress, so roll on ce soir, dear little ones to bed shall flea and I shall poor some wine. For now it is time for me.
Gluten free carrot cake.
Yesterday's did was yum.
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