Positivity and Shizzle

Standard

I’m having a really nice time at the moment.

Does that sound trite? It isn’t meant that way. I think nice is underrated.

There are lots of big things happening for me to get my teeth into, but also lots of warmly pleasant smaller things that just make my days seem to coast by on an upwind of lovely.

You know about the big things, mostly, I think. The house is on the market, and our offer has been accepted unconditionally, meaning we have as much time to sell ours as we need. Isn’t that nice? We have cashed in our endowment and paid off all the lingering, annoying debts we owed: the kitchen overspend; the car that I desperately wanted needed; the court stuff and the credit cards. My role as full time out-of-the-house-working mum of three is going better than any of us dared hope; the house is clean and tidy-ish, Rob has stepped manfully into the void I left with regards to cooking, cleaning, shopping and, well, general running of the house. Okay, to be honest, it wasn’t a massive void as I was never what you would describe as ‘gifted’ domestically speaking. So it’s fair to say things are better on that front now. Which is nice.

But there are also lots of small occurrences daily that make me pause, and smile, and be thankful for what the universe has given me. The Chums are nothing short of amazing; The Boy is in both the SuperMaths and SuperReading groups at school (I don’t think they’re called that except in my head, actually), which is just wonderful. The Pie is riding up a storm and cartwheeling like a pro at her various activities. I am living slightly vicariously through her at the moment and I am, as ever, thankful that we can afford for her to do most of the eyewateringly expensive extra curricular hobbies she adores. The Littlest Chum just charms the pants off us all. He’s massively into Doctor Who at the moment and I can confidently state that there is not a lot funnier than a two year old walking round menacingly repeating ‘hey, who turned out the lights?’ in a monotone.

I am mindful, daily, of how fortunate I am to have a husband who treats me like the Queen Of Fucking Everything while also being deeply sexy, screamingly funny and, as it turns out, a whizz in the kitchen. I’m sorry, I know bragging isn’t attractive, but this is my blog and I’ll brag if I want to 😉 He really is the icing on my daily cake.

My little sister is in early labour, I reckon, so will be having my niece IMMINENTLY. I’ve just spoken to her and I am feeling very optimistic that THIS IS IT so fingers crossed. I have to say that she sounds like she’s actually giving birth, and I don’t think she realised how out of breath she was. She’s complaining of backache, braxton hicks and feeling like the world is about to fall out of her bum. Cast your vote now for the result, people of the internet. The poll is open, and I’m going for Friday at 2pm.

I know this is a chuntering vom fest of saccharine, and I know I do this a lot. But I do think that counting my blessings is vital to my general wellbeing and demeanor, and I highly recommend it as a tool for making life seem that bit sunnier. I am a firm believer in the fact that there is nothing I can’t get over or through or around, and that grabbing life by the testicles is the surest way to get the most out of it. So thank you, universe, for the epic bounty. I’m enjoying the ride, and long may it last.


I’ll leave you with this thought:

May you be poor in misfortune,

Rich in blessings,

Slow to make enemies,

And quick to make friends.

But rich or poor, quick or slow,

May you know nothing but happiness

From this day forward.

 

Later, kids xx

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s