This is #day7.
Over the summer, I am writing a short post about our day. The posts highlight some of our fun times, boring times, and imperfect times.
#Day7
What a rubbish day.
Daddy got up with boy, so I got an extra hour in bed. Yay!
. Hope
. . . . . . . . . filtered
. . . through
. . . . . . . . . . . the
. . . . . curtains.
Maybe the sun would stick around today.
I decide to:
• Create some content and
• Post it quickly
• Before I have doubts and
• Try to edit and re-edit until
• The original post is lost, and
• I put it in my notes file
• Where it stays
We eat breakfast in a building site.
The work will be finished today.
Boy watches YouTube.
We must get out of the house.
I try to send some emails before the builders come.
But get distracted and clean the bathroom instead.
10:30 no builders. No message.
Load dishwasher. Hang laundry. Make lunch. Eat in the garden.
Living the high life!
I do some work while boy and daddy play catch.
Boy comes in. He’s frustrated.
Apparently, “This is a rubbish family!”
He stomps upstairs angrily and waits for me to follow him.
I agreed, sometimes we are rubbish.
Then I reminded him that we love him.
Bedtime was messy but calm.
Downstairs is calm but messy.
Today, I was a rubbish mummy.
My rubbish son agrees.
And daddy? He is rubbish too.
Tomorrow, we need to find new builders. The ones we have are rubbish.
Have you had any rubbish days recently?
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