When is your favourite time of the week?
Mine is Monday, 9am. I get back from dropping DorkySon at school, turn on the radio, empty the dishwasher, start some laundry… Then ten minutes to sit down and plough through a bowl of muesli before I head to Pilates. It is the quietest time of the week. It is my chance to breathe, deep and slow.
Mine is Tuesday morning, round about ten. It’s blogging time. I take a look at the scraps of paper, scribbled-in notebooks, posts in draft, and work out which can be whittled into better shape. I sip tea from a favourite cup, snack on macadamia nuts, tippity-tap at the keyboard as I try and put the right words in the right order. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. It’s always worth trying.
Mine is Wednesday, just before three, when I pick DorkySon up from his last day of kindy for the week. He’s had library, exercise, music class. He rushes out the door, shouting goodbye to anyone who’ll listen, then launches into loud chat about his day. He presses a crumpled pile of notices into my hand, holds up a painting or craft project, asks if I’ve brought the car or bought him candy. It is home time, and Wednesday afternoon hugs are the warmest, fiercest ones of the week.
Mine is Thursday, at 4pm, when I sit and watch my boy swim. I’ve learned to ignore all the things I dislike about pools – the clammy air and stifling smell of chlorine, the knots of other people’s hair around the drains. I switch off from that, and take thirty minutes to marvel at DorkySon as he kicks and dives, splashes and sprays. I am there with a warm towel and a carton of juice when he clambers out, teeth chattering, and comes to find me.
Mine is Friday morning, when we get the fridge stocked for the weekend. DorkySon and I pop on our sunnies and our cosy jackets, find some good tunes on the car radio, and head into town. Norman and Dann first for a chocolate vehicle, which always seems to take so long to choose. Salamanca Fresh, for bacon and watermelon, then the Wursthaus, for a nicer-than-usual bottle of wine. We head over to the fish punts for some scallops or blue eye, then it’s up to the library for a new pile of books. We are home by lunchtime; spend the afternoon with our noses pressed against the window, anxious for DorkyDad to finish work and join us.
Mine is first thing on Saturday. Coffee in bed, sometimes even two. Reading, wrestling, conversation and cuddles. We all catch up on the week just past. It’s an easy start to the weekend, no hurry for showers or breakfast. DorkySon snugs up on the sofa with chocolate milk and cartoons, I run out for a paper from the petrol station over the road. DorkyDad gets busy with bacon and pancake mix. Time slows down on Saturday mornings. It’s a shame they only come once a week.
Mine is Sunday evening on the sofa with DorkyDad. Just us, with some crap film on, or maybe a cooking show. If there’s really nothing we’ll light a fire in the kitchen instead, sit with our books or the latest New Yorker. A snack dinner; crackers and cheese, maybe some salami, slices of apple. We stay close, think and talk about the week ahead – nights out, work travel, buttons that need sewing on. We say that weekends go too quickly; they should last three days rather than two. Mondays aren’t so bad, though, and we tuck into bed with a smile.
That’s my favourite time of the week. When’s yours?
I’m so delighted to have been shortlisted in the Best Writer category of the BritMums Brilliance in Blogging Awards. Thank you so much to you all for your support. If you would like to see DorkyMum make it into the final six, please vote for me here. Voting is open until Friday May 16th.
Thank you also to the Sunday Tasmanian who were kind enough to run a piece about my nomination.