Ch-ch-changes.

We... Are moving. Not just into our OWN home, but to another town. I've kinda mentioned we're moving, but I don't think I mentioned the fact it was our own house?

Right before uni exams, in fact. But that's life- stuff happens. I can't change when we move- we found a house we loved/ didn't completely hate, we started the process to buy it, and ended up with a moving date of Friday the 13th. Its funny how people react to this- some swear they would NEVER move on such a day, and they would change it... M and I are cool with it obviously. When under stress, M takes his stress out on others, while I play the blame game. (I'm not proud of myself, but stress has to escape somehow.) But if we move Friday the 13th? We can both blame the date! M happens to carry a box of plates when the bottom drops out and all our plates smash? Instead of M blaming me for not taping the box securely enough, and me yelling back at him for buying cheap tape, we can just scream at a calendar or something.

We have about two weeks to go. Its actually... Not so bad. I do a box a day roughly, so we have 16 boxes or so in a friends spare bedroom. We have a lot of stress, but we seem to be white water rafting, rather than drowning. I culled a lot of stuff over Christmas, so that's helped a lot.

Willow seems ok with the move. Sometimes she gets upset. Sometimes she's excited. She has actually never seen the inside of the house, so she's a bit worried about that. She's asked for rainbow curtains, and I've promised her she shall have them. She has also asked for rainbow walls, and a rainbow bed, and rainbow sheets. I haven't promised those. She's looking forward to a bigger house, and to see all her toys come out of the boxes that I've packed them in. She's looking forward to having her own trampoline, and her own play ground in the back yard. She knows when we move, she'll sleepover at Dean's house after preschool, and Nana Sharon and Poppy John will come down. Then we will make the house nice, and poh poh and pa pa will visit again! So she has that to look forward to, plus a new dance class, and maybe even swimming lessons... 

Willow says...

"oh mummy you're so beautiful!... But not as beautiful as me."

Around 4 is when I start remembering stuff into adulthood, so now willow is 4? The pressure to really be a good parent is ON.

But sometimes being a good-ish parent means being the bad guy, or not reacting how Willow wants me to ("yeah ok. You say your friend punched you? Well he says you pinched him first. He should have told you to not pinch rather than punch you, but you shouldn't be pinching people in the first place.") and sometimes... I'm just not up to it. (example: I've been in bed sick since Thursday. Not out of luxury, but because I have been so sick. All I've been able to do is crawl to the bathroom to benefit from a hot steamy shower, and vomit into the toilet. There is also a lot of Gatorade drinking, nose blowing, and sleeping. M has also been sick, although not as drastically as me. He's also on night shift. It means most nights Willow's been all "but WHO is going to read me a bedtime story?" the answer has been a raspy "we really love you, but I'm on deaths door right now, so uh... Raincheck?" ) its not really fair on Willow.

Then again, in my more sour moments, I figure she got sick first and passed it onto me. So this is a good lesson in COVER YOUR MOUTH AND DON'T COUGH ON OTHER PEOPLE, yes?

Did I mention we are moving? Oh yes. We have begun the prep work of moving. Things are in labelled boxes and taped up. We have a very special day happening on Wednesday. My parents arrive Thursday. Willow is excited to see people who aren't bedridden. We are also out of bread, which is a shame since "bread" was the corner stone of dinner tonight and Willow's lunch tomorrow. So, time to get in the kitchen and make bread. Because life goes on, doesn't it?