Tuesday, 9 September 2008

One Day (part two)

Today Isla refused to hold my hand while going into school because the other girls and boys don't. It seems One day is closer than I thought.

One day I will have a small car again. One that only fits me and the occasional passenger and is clean, shiny and hand print free at all times.
One day I will go with my husband on a second honeymoon (for two), wake with the sun high in the sky, get ridiculously and dizzyingly drunk at lunch time and go straight to bed until the next morning.
One day my house will stay the way I left it, not mysteriously mess up the minute I turn my back.
One day I will pop out to the shops - and I mean pop - and be finished in five minutes. I may even treat myself to a basket rather than a trolley-for-three and queue up giddily in the baskets only aisle.
One day I will go to all the shops in my village and buy elegant things for dinner, stopping to chat or for a coffee at leisure. I will be able to fit myself (because there is only myself and no pram) into every tiny specialist shop, smug and happy that I'm 'buying locally'.
One day I will have a cup of tea during nap time without the tension that someone may wake at any minute and ruin the moment. In fact I may even have a set cup-of-tea-time that I adhere to religiously just because I can.
One day my children will refer to me as That Mad Old Bat or The Parental Guidance rather than Mummy Can I Have and I will be pleased at my eccentricities and lack of responsibility.
One day I will actually go on a 'date night' (ha ha ha, did anyone really believe they would ever get to do that?) with my husband without the little knot of tension that everything's alright at home.
One day my kitchen will be my own, the high chair, mini chair-and-table set and play mat will be gone and I will dance a waltz with my husband around our own elegant dining table in all the space.
One day my day will end when I want it to, possibly as late as 11pm, rather than at 3pm when I start thinking about school pick up and tea.
One day evenings will be for relaxing, possibly a glass of wine or even the cinema, not getting-ready-for-the-morning, ironing, sandwiches and signing notes.
One day I will sleep all night long without nightmares/coughs/toilets/monsters to wake me.


One day the house will be ever so quiet, I will be able to whisper to myself and hear the echo.
One day strangers won't smile at me on the street, pause and say; isn't she/he lovely, envious of my status, my life, my treasures.
One day I won't get up to two smiling faces, ever so pleased that I'm awake and ready to play.
One day the worry will be further away and thus more scary and less controllable.
One day my tea break will be interrupted by the phone ringing, and it will be one of the children and I shall be very very glad.
One day my heart won't burst with pride every morning just for the existence of another human being.
One day the feeling of a tiny hand slipping into mine, skipping and pulling at it while I go, will be a distant, precious memory hard to grasp and pin down.
One day tiny clothes and underwear that are so cute your heart skips will be missing from my washing line, my ironing pile.
One day I will wish for little cold feet and snuffly noses to creep into bed with me. I may even wake in the night thinking they have only to find it was a dream.
One day I won't be a hero, a queen, the focus and meaning in my children's lives. Just an ordinary person living invisibly.
One day life will be for filling, but not necessarily fulfilling, not in the same way anyway.

Until grandchildren?


The Dotterel said...

Oh, how very well put. (And my tea's already going cold!)

Jolly Good Yarn Girl said...

When I've wiped away my tears...I may write on my trite old blog JGYG x (May need to grab some St John's Wort on way to kids plus bottle of vodka...)

Nota Bene said...

Definitely print, place carefull in envelope and present to offsping on their weddings day...!

A Confused Take That Fan said...

Sob. Gulp. Large Sob.
Off to cuddle and kiss small children immediately.

Ernest de Cugnac said...

Wonderful stuff MH, you tell it like it is. And PS absolutely nothing wrong with your brain itchiness; it's tickling along just fine!

valley girl said...

Excellent post, and I feel all guilty now as I've just posted about children getting up far too early and into bed with me....I will try to remember your wise thoughts tomorrow at 6am!

Bush Mummy said...

Sob, sniffle, sigh, gulp. Wonderful post. With you all the way.

Overemotional BM in W12 x

Tara@From Dawn Till Rusk said...

Aww Millennium Housewife, that was so lovely. "One day I will wish for little cold feet and snuffly noses to creep into bed with me" so beautifully put.
I'm with Confused Take That Fan, I'm off to cuddle my 'babies' . . .

Nunhead Mum of One said...

That was lovely and all of a sudden I'm missing Mac terribly....he has his first Numbers lesson today and I wondering about how he's coping.....

Mom/Mum said...

Oh pass me the Kleenex, NOW! That post moved me so much am going to step away from the computer and go interact and cuddle with my offspring.

Sparx said...

What a great post! I love your blog, thanks for commenting on my birth story by the way, must thank Tara for that!

Samurai Beetle said...

Beautiful post! Thanks for reminding us to treasure the early years.

Millennium Housewife said...

Sorry about your tea Dotterel

JGYG, vodka and st john's wort could be a new cocktail don't you think?

NB, noted (see what I did there)

Confused, I know, I gave mine extra hugs

VG, coming to read yours, I just know I'll relate!

BM, over emotion is good!

Tara, thanks for stopping by,

Nunhead, did you solve the triangle food conundrum?

MM, I fear I have set off a cuddling epidemic...

Sparx, you're welcome, and thanks for stopping by!

SB, cheers!

Tara@From Dawn Till Rusk said...

Now you've upset everyone, I think you need to post something to perk us all back up again.
No pressure or anything . . .

Irene said...

One day you will be a independent, autonomous human being with her own space and her own thoughts and her own life. Just think of that, and it will be grand, and don't get all sentimental about those kids. They grow up and live their own lives.

Millennium Housewife said...

Tara, I quite agree, I promise not to do it again. New post coming post haste (golly the wit is flowing today) MH

Irene, that is a lovely comment, thankyou and I'll try to remember it. Very difficult though when you're in the thick of it all. MH

Jolly Good Yarn Girl said...

Millie - you may say that sniffing gorgeous fabric stretches sanity but I say sanity is vanity and gets you nowhere creatively! JGYGx
PS Loving "Happenstance" - thank you - fun book.

workthatwardrobe said...

When the bedrooms of my four children get me down with their mess I tour the rooms with my camera, take snaps and file them under "One Day I will Miss All This!"
It makes me feel better.

Dumdad said...

What a lovely post. So true. One day I'll write a post like that. One day!

Jeni said...

Thank you for visiting my place and your comments. Re my Mom's ideas -and mine -about college when I was young, I rather think she felt it would be money wasted and I wouldn't study. However, I firmly believe college would have been a different matter to me in that, with money involved there, my Scottish Genes would have kicked into full gear so as to make sure the funding didn't go to waste. I do regret very much that it took me 32 years to figure out how to fund my college education and that therefore, my Mom never saw how well I did acquiring my higher education . None of her siblings lived long enough to realize that either and the widow of my Mom's younger brother remarked often about how proud that particular uncle would have been had he been able to see me go to college and get that degree. Thanks for visiting and I will be visiting your place too now as I enjoyed what I've read here thus far.

Millennium Housewife said...

WTW, I may just do that, can you photograph smells?

DD, thankyou, and you will!

Jeni, on my way over to yours, thankyou for replying so carefully and with such thought. MH

auntiegwen said...

What a beautiful post. I am very blessed and the mother of 3, now scarily big but every morning I still go in and kiss them awake and they still smile at me in the very same way the did when they were tiny.

Carolyn said...

Sigh. That post was absolutely gorgeous. So beautifully written and expressed. Wonderful. Thanks for sharing.

Anonymous said...

Such a lovely post. I know exactly what you mean. The other day I found myself grabbing my son's hand and giving it an extra little squeeze, just because I still could. As he is six (and my only child), I know my hand-holding days are numbered.

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