This is what I have been given so far this week:
*countless kisses from my sons
*a headache over my right eye
*a moment in the dark when my bed-ready baby, placed small hands against my cheeks, moved back slightly in my arms and gazed at me. Content enough with what she found, she moved again, forward this time, to rest her lips on mine.
*a packet of Viennese whirled biscuits. Later found by my four-year-old. Some he ate, some he crumbled up and showered in
*consideration by a stranger, kind enough to send round two gas bottles the same day I asked. Allowing me to light the oven and the children to eat hot food again. I am slightly scared of the oven. Recently, when I clicked the clicker, it did not light. I did not realise. Some minutes passed. I opened the door. I clicked again. A blue flame shot out. I burnt my eyebrow. My friends who were with me, sitting at my kitchen table, drinking my tea, laughed. I did not think that was nice. Of the oven. Nor of my friends.
*a barbecued salmon sandwich on a sunshiny evening as children played on grass
*a deal of worry when my six-year-old screamed out with night terrors.
*three broken nights courtesy of the children, (one each.) Sleep, I believe to be greatly over-rated.
*other people's time as they pause to glance across and into mine
*25 (not including my mother)pieces of advice, some of it good
*someone's patience who listened to me rant
*a glass of red wine
*a phone call from a world distant friend
*a party invitation for my eldest son
*a coffee and a cheese scone
*the benefit of the doubt by a nice woman
This is what I have given so far this week: