Scary stories from a lovely place
Man I am bored.
Public holidays in the middle of the week are a tease. It was so lovely having Stephen around yesterday, because he’s so great, but also because he’s an adult. We talked about memory and forgetting when it comes to a nation’s history, our sleep woes, upcoming birthdays and why we love the view of the escarpment. We hadn’t had much sleep the night before so we had an easy day. We went to Wollongong Harbour and marveled at its aged, rustic quality of and how it reminded us of growing up in Kiama and Dublin.
But now it’s just me again. Conversation with Silas and Oisín is different, still good, but not quite the same. So far today we have talked about aeroplanes, bottoms and pelicans. We have walked up the road and gawped in every store window along Woonona’s High Street. We’ve swung, slid, climbed and defied gravity at the park. We’ve watched Playschool and I’ve scrubbed the sink, folded the washing, made the beds. We’ve tidied and messed up the house.
I’m pondering future, glorious careers as well as menial part time jobs I could do for a bit of diversion. I’ve felt crap about being nigh unemployable.
Staying at home with my kids is cool. It’s fun and it brings a sense of stability to our family. But on days like this, I just feel a bit stagnant and bored. The chorus of Radiohead’s ‘Climbing up the walls’ comes to mind. Even though the rest of the words are pretty scary – like
It’s always best when the light is off,
It’s always better on the outside.
Fifteen blows to the back of your head,
Fifteen blows to your mind.
I can relate to
And either way you turn
I’ll be there
Climbing up the walls
Maybe I need to add a third Playgroup to my weekly repertoire?