Y’know what? If I’d stopped work a year earlier, I’d have gone mad. All day, every day, with little people … not good. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Sprog 2 is accidentally-swapped-at-the-hospital-can’t-possibly-be-mine cute. She also says adorable things like: “I love you all the way to the universe and back”. And I love her all the way to the universe and back too, but there are endurance limits … Like yesterday. I dropped Sprog 1 at camp at 8.45am and took Sprog 2 to a park in Bronte. Sprog 2 spent an hour playing on a spinning spider’s web-style contraption she’d been hassling me to visit. Occasionally I pushed the climbing web contraption around. Mainly I checked my text messages. Then Sprog 2 decided she wanted to go surfing on Sprog 1’s boogie board (illicit fun!). The beach was closed because of dangerous conditions, which made Sprog 2 even keener. There were BOYS surfing, why couldn’t she? Well, because they’re crazy teenagers and you’re 5. So we drove to Bondi in search of red and yellow flags. Hey, it’s not like we could go home – we were in cleaner exile until lunchtime. I found a $4 an hour parking spot at North Bondi and popped into a toilet block while Sprog 2 waited outside. She assured me she didn’t need to go. (Spoiler alert: never believe a child who says they don’t need to go. They do, they just haven’t noticed yet. I think scientists should study why little people never feel the call of nature until they’re TOTALLY BUSTING.) Then we went to the beach. It was 19 degrees, it was high tide, the surf was wild. Sprog 2 ran down to the water, dipped her toe in and declared: “It’s so warm!”. So I changed her into her swimmers. She splashed around in the shallows for two seconds and returned for the boogie board. To avoid a drowning on my watch, I squirmed around under the beach towel, removed my too-tight clothes and struggled into my too-tight cossie. Then I walked shivering to the surf. Sprog 2 danced around in the water for two minutes, flopped onto the board for one millisecond, then announced she’d had enough and wanted her towel. Right. And could we please go to another park now? Sooooo … we trekked along the beach, me schlepping the boogie board and beach bag. Five minutes after getting to the park, Sprog 2 tells me she needs to go to the toilet. Yep, she’s BUSTING. It’s a good thing I’m (almost) at peace with the world these days. I didn’t lose it. I may have implied that the morning wasn’t heading in a direction I appreciated, and I may have enquired (rather tightly) as to why she didn’t wee when we were at the ameneties block. But no-one wept. That’s progress. As we walked past an ice-cream truck, I secretly hoped she’d ask for one so I could say, “No. Why should you have fun when I’m not?” Then we got dressed, climbed back in the car – still with $2 worth of parking on the ticket – and drove home. I’d had enough. And it was only 11.45am. The whole afternoon still stretched before me. Fark.
PS: The afternoon went surprisingly well. Sprog 2 had a playdate. At one point I heard them discussing what game to play next. Her little friend said: “Let’s play ‘tidying up’.” And they did. I could have kissed her little friend. But she would have been horrified, because she rivals Sprog 1 in the low-key stakes. So I settled for a secret smile to myself.
DIET LOG: Sigh.
WHAT THE SCALES SAID: Steady at 68.8kg … if I lean really far forward on them. Standing up straight adds 500gms.
TONIGHT’S MENU: Dinner at a friend’s house.
housegoeshome 
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