And my heart breaks again.
Poor little William. He is so beautiful nearing 4 years old but he wants to be as big as Tom. Because Tom stays up late, boogie boards with daddy, does long piano with mummy and can play wii Mario cart....
Little Eddie also just wants his big brothers' attention. Though it involves throwing garbage trucks at their heads, pinching them, throwing sand on their head ....
Through it all, Sammy smiles, cries, eats, sleeps. Lots of sleeping but also because he has a head cold lots of coughing up flem and needing to be held upright.
Holidays are a double edged sword with young children. One thinks one is going to 'get a break', 'get some rest' when in reality it is a hyped up change of scene. D suffering with this disillusion and me struggling to be a better wife in response.
There are moments of joy, but fleeting.
Watching Eddie run. I love toddler running.
Gelato in the afternoon.
Watching tommy bob up and down for ages in the surf, meditation for a 7 year old
Loving cuddles from them all when random feelings of happiness or excitement grab them.
Sammy smiles for all and sundry, gorgeous gorgeous, chubby, edible creature that he is.
Friends dropping in for a swim and champagne. Love the headless sensation of champagne in the spa.
Coffee coffee coffee from Aromas in the morning with buttered sourdough toast reading iPad news
Sun baking in glimpses of sun amongst the showers, coconut suntan oil ... And beading water there on
Damien loving his body surfing with Tom or jumping the waves with Eddie
William playing on his own in the sand talking stories of tunnels and bridges and reversing diggers
Noosa view - grey green trees like pandanus, palms that really know how to 'lean in'(!), rolling gentle noosa only waves, mainland in distance like a muted water color painting, national park dense green headland
The heavy exhaustion that draws me to bed too early, like a real sandman.
Well that was more wonderful moments than I thought. Once again, the writing helps me cast away the dark thoughts, the doubts, the self pity.
