Jeepers, I'm sneaking this Friday post in by the hare's breath. But alas I am on the couch, with a glass of Friday night coping cordial and all is good in our world and as it should be... unlike last night.
Before I share yet another spectacular parenting fail on my behalf, let's rewind a little just so you can get the full picture of how this week may have possibly lead up to this particular event. I'm not using it as an excuse ok... but if it cuts me even a little slack then I am all for exploiting the facts.
It was a busy week, busier than usual.
Actually, it's been kind of busier for the past three weeks than it's been for quite some time - because of some changes that have been happening lately.
Not bad changes, just changes. Changes that have needed attention and even more of my time than usual.
You see I'm now flying solo at Little Lane Workshops.
Yup our Tessa is exploring some exciting new opportunities for her family that may well lead her elsewhere (I'll leave her to tell about that though as it's her story) but the short version is I have donned my big girl panties and I'm going it alone with the business and man oh man I have some big plans for that baby!
Another change is that The Cult List now lives with Uberkate and Kate is flat out working on exciting new designs and concepts for her gorgeous brand. I'm thrilled to be working with her on some of the behind the scenes stuff for The Cult List and honestly - I am busting my non fictional balls for you guys to see what gorgeousness she has coming.
The rest of the way I fill any extra hours in my days pretty much remains the same as always though -I'm still working for Kate on her core brand Uberkate as well as partnering with her in our Crossroading business and I'm still doing my own photography and brand development work too. Oh and I'm still here of course - at LL&H.
It's just one big old basket of busy - but a fun busy, a happy to be busy and not a wanky I'm so important busy or a bring out the violin because poor me busy kind of way - if you know what I mean?!
It's more of a self induced glorious pig in shit kind of busy in my opinion.
The kid's are also busy (I'm really starting to hate that word), with the business of being kids and as they get bigger and become more independent they present us with a whole new world of experiences and challenges.
Most of the time, I think Carl and I are doing an OK job with them, a good job even. In fact sometimes I think Carl and I have it all figured out... but then life says" nah ah, not so fast" and despite our best efforts to convince the kids (and ourselves) that we kinds sorta know what we are doing... we don't get it quite so right at all.
Like last night.
Last night I certainly didn't get it right.
Last night I was absolutely knackered after another week of crazy and so at about a minute to 6 I poured myself a glass of wine and I plonked on the couch with my laptop where I proceeded to lose myself in the world of Facie to catch up on what everyone has been up to whilst I have been busy with my head up my own... you get the idea yeah?
So Flynn came in from where he and his brother's and some neighbourhood friends had been outside towing each other on skateboards behind bikes and he was limping and whimpering and sort of holding his hand weirdly.
He had some blood on his knees along with some gravel rash and I could see that clearly he'd had a bit of a run in with the road.
I'm used to that with this kid.
I mean there was a good chance he would inherit my klutzy DNA and his skinny little scarred and bruised legs are evidence that indeed he has.
"Oh mate, what did you do this time?" I enquired, but if I'm honest - in an only really half listening kind of way.
"I fell over" he whispered as he fought back his tears.
"Ohh darling, sit down and rest quietly for a while" I said as I patted the couch next to me. "You'll be ok!" and after a quick kiss on the top of his head, I turned my attention back to Facebook where I was reading about the academic achievements of the nephew of some ex colleague I haven't seen for oh at least 20 years.
About 20 or 30 minutes or thereabouts later, I looked up from my laptop and noticed he was still quietly sniffling.
"What's up hun?" I asked, almost forgetting that he'd fallen over... again.
"My hand still hurts" he cried.
"Give me a look mate" I said, closing my laptop and taking a sip of wine. And so he did, give me a look that is.
He gave me a look at a little finger that was sticking out sideways and sort of backwards too.
He'd been sitting there all that time with a dislocated finger and I'd been sitting there all that time with wine and Facebook!
Needless to say a trip to the hospital was on the cards for this crap mama, but I am pleased to inform you that his finger is back where it's supposed to be.
I'm ashamed to admit that I probably just checked off item number 102 on the list of 101 ways to be a shitty mum.
Feel free to go ahead and boo at me. I totally deserve it!
I couldn't possibly feel any worse than I already do.
Have you ever? No really have you?