Almost dry, my always efficiently short nails are painted the colour of dark, ripened cherries - the first time I've found the time and the energy to paint them. Toenails too! A minor miracle.
Upstairs, I can hear Craig brushing his teeth, and I suppose I ought to head to bed myself. But it's just been one of thosedays... when, as a mom and wife, you lose sight of your heart's little daily desires in folding clean washing, still warm and smelling of the late summer sun... in the soapy suds in the kitchen sink... It was a long day where the groceries got done ETCETERA, but my little studio space remained empty. Where can I find more time to paint? How can I magic more time into my day to write? Hmmm... even a solitary bath by candlelight (or moonlight) would be heavenly (and I'm trying not to feel guilty thinking about it...) Baths now are: Craig and I in the bath with Layla at 5pm, her plonked in her bright yellow bath seat, while plastic wind-up turtles and rubber fish find their way into all sorts of places I've not had visited in awhile. (Sigh)
Layla's probably going to wake in about 30min from now. I am awake every hour at night still with her. Teething pain, and its tummy pains (and resultant giant nappies at 4am we both have to wait for before she'll head back to sleep again for only another hour...) Some have counselled me to let my darling child 'cry it out' - but my heart is too soft: DAMN - she's awake. Better go.