You know, if I was going to offer advice to my kids about what they should look for in a partner, it would be this: Choose someone who treats you well. Sure, you can be led by whether they knock your socks off with their charm or looks or wit, or the fact that you have a whole host of mutual interests, or even by what they do for a living. But if they don't treat you well, with respect and kindness in good times AND in bad, then you should tread carefully and for gawd's sake don't have kids with them. (Fixit treats me well. Our relationship is not perfect but he and I always try to remember to treat each other as we'd like to be treated and so far it is working. My friend Mavis, whose husband left her while she was having chemo for her secondary cancers ie Did NOT Treat Her Well, said to me Fixit cherishes you and my husband doesn't cherish me. That was why it was a relief when he left her really. But I think I'll always remember what she said. Kindness and cherishing, you don't grow sick of them.) There. That's my two cents for the day. I reckon if I look back on 2011 I'll remember it as the year of worrying about my family and of how they were treated. I hope in 2012 they move on to better times.
Meantime: Happy Birthday Nell. I may have a present for you soon... you know, maybe. When I get my act together. Which I definitely don't at the moment, as evidenced by my signing up to go away with Jen, Astrid and Nell for an escape to Bendigo, only to realise catastrophically late that it clashed with our school fete. So now I can't go away with the girls because rule number one of primary school is thou shalt do thy fete duty. I was really looking forward to Bendigo too, seeing the wedding dress exhibition and having fun with a lovely bunch of women.
I do literally feel like a juggler who is starting to drop her juggling balls at the moment. I probably need to write lists or something, otherwise I'll behave like a lunatic when anything is added to my load. Like for instance, I gave myself a stress headache doing my turn of the catering for the Climber's Cricket Team. It all turned out fine in the end and there was enough to eat, they all seemed to like it and no-one got food poisoning. But my stomach was in knots and my back was in spasm that day, and to have got myself into such a state about a bit of extra cooking is ridiculous, and only happened because I'm worrying about other stuff.
This is why it's been All Quiet on the Blogging Front. But anytime soon I'm going to blog about Flat Stanley, Oliver! and the cool extra job I've been doing.
note to self: no more Tudors
2 hours ago