Last night Martin arranged for me to go to the cinema with friends. Practically shoved me out of the door in fact. Rowan gazed around in suprise for a third of the film, nursed through a further third, and slept through the rest. She was *very* quiet (am always paranoid I might get kicked out). So I got to see the new Harry Potter on the big screen, on the day it came out. I'm not sure it was worth £7... The pedant in me *knew* I would find certain things irritating, but nevertheless. ;)
And today, another couple of quiet hours. Jenna has gone for the last time to the toddler group with my inlaws, which she is quietly devastated about being too old for... I guess this is a homeschool milestone for me too, when after the summer breaks Jenna is banned from all our previous baby/toddler stuff. I say banned, some will be good about us still being there. Others have made it quite clear we aren't welcome, "it's not you, but..."
I've made good use of this morning - made a couple of loaves for people who would like a regular order of my Tassajara bread (should I start charging?) and done some sewing. A skirt for me. A dress for baby pudding. A sling for Em. The sound of the sewing machine lulls the baby from watchful curiosity to fast asleep in mere moments.
And in a few seconds, when her sisters come bursting back in with their joy and chaos and tales of their day, then my day will really begin.
When I'm struggling, sometimes a day like today just gives me chance to miss them. My heart feels around the spaces their absences leave, and recognises something. I feel like I want to run away, be someone else, doing something else. But then when I have the chance to lose the label Mummy for a moment, I crave to hold them again. It's just not the same house when they aren't in it.