I have changed gear. Shifted down from 5 to 1. I’m almost at a standstill. It’s wonderfully relaxing. What has happened? Have I broken my legs? No. L’Homme has gone to Bourgogne for five days to help a mate knock neat holes in stone walls and then fill them in with windows and doors. And he has taken Tommy with him. This means Léonie and I are home alone. It is calm, peaceful, quiet and EASY. All we do is sleep, wake up, play, eat, sleep again, read, go for walks, sleep and sleep. I have even sat down on the sofa for longer than five minutes. I have even watched a film. From beginning to end. For the first time in four years. There is no need to tidy or clean as there is no-one doing any untidying or messing-up. As a result the day stretches open wide with bags of free time piling up in pillowy waves. Instead of bouldering myself into ‘useful’ or ‘constructive’ activities I have decided to do nothing whatsoever; to just look after Léonie and waft through the day. How easy one baby is. At least, how easy this baby is. It is so peaceful that I don’t quite know how I’m going to cope with the shock of a testosterone-fuelled tornado hitting the house tomorrow evening, complete with bags of dirty washing and various hues of stinky feet. But I am trying not to think about it too much and am just enjoying this lazy, long weekend. Every mother of two (or more) children should experience this. Going from a whole buzzing family to just a 6 month old baby is like leaving the city and arriving on a sandy beach with just a towel, a sun hat and a good book.
I promised myself to use this time to write. But my brain has fuzzed over with over-sleep, gliding along in first gear with no particular direction in mind. So this is all I can muster right now. The boys get back tomorrow. That will wake me up with a sharp slap round the head.