Surviving the Days ... and the Weeks and the Torment.


Words I write don't necessarily make sense to you... I don't expect them to, maybe I don't even want them to... The thoughts are written fragmented and incomplete! I do not write for any form of external validation.. What you read may not have the same meaning as what I write... But do not underestimate the personal significance of my words! An essential part of who I am is only evident in my writing... It had been locked away after it was used against me... Everything you need, in order to hurt me, is right here!

Sunday, May 14, 2006

The sun doesn't really go into the water...

Little Boy has taken great pleasure this past week in telling me, "I might have a present for you Mum, or I might not!" I find it a little scarey that he can keep a secret so well at such an age, surely he'll only get better. Not once was he tempted to tell me any more than that one line, and I didn't ask. His secret keeping has been proven before. He managed to keep my birthday pressies secret for months, literally. I was blown away back then at the extent of his secret keeping skills. But I digress..

Yesterday we spent a few hours at my sis' place looking through old photos in search of one in particular (quite the task and not quite successful). We made it home around dinner time. Little Boy locked himself away in the bedroom and gave me strict instructions that I was to stay on the computer and out of his way. As he was getting ready for bed he thought out loud, "You don't eat breakfast Mum, so I won't bring you that in bed.." to which I smiled and told him that was okay. He then told me, "The only things you have to do tomorrow is get dressed and cook... oh and go to the shops." As I tucked him into bed, turned his music down and kissed him goodnight, his final words of the day were "I want you up at 8, that's when I'll be ready!"

He woke me up this morning very proud of himself as he'd already had breakfast and got dressed without being asked. He then came in gave me a kiss and a cuddle and said "Happy Mother's Day" as he handed me his self-made card. "I drew it all myself and it was all my own ideas," he told me. Then he proceeded to hand me three presents which I opened, still half asleep, as he sat beside me. He told me that he headn't chosen two of them, a mug and some bath salts, but told me he'd chosen the last. It was a wooden, book-like photo album with a frame on the front in the shape of a heart. He went on to say, "There was one with a circle on the front, but I chose this one so that you can put a photo of me in there, because you love me."

We spent the rest of the morning laying on my bed chatting and watching music videos. The array of questions he came out with ranged from, "Why do we have white skin but other people have black?" all the way through to "How was gravity invented?" He thinks we're very lucky that we haven't fallen off the face of the earth, living "Down Under" and all.

What more could I possibly need..

Happy Mother's day to all of you Mums!

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