thesandwichyears | thealisandwichesdotcom

The little jeweled box

Posted on November 2, 2015November 2, 2015 by Ali Mortimer

The little box..

While on holiday with my Dad and sister in Cornwall over half term we had many discussions about Mum and how we felt… My Dad is by far the best at coping, dealing, managing with the sadness, loss, change… Maybe it is because he has had longer to come to terms with the demise of my Mum’s brain, her personality, her… having lived with it daily for many years…

One evening, I asked him how he managed to stay so positive and focused on the future, without feeling guilty or letting the grief overwhelm him as it was me. What could I do, so that I could focus on getting my life back on track and being the best version of myself, to being the best mother to my boys, the caring wife, the brave, fearless and professional business owner… so that I could get back to being myself, my positive self, the optimist, happy, full of vitality and spirit.

He talked about a box.

He puts ‘Mum’ in a box.

And every now and then, he will allow himself to open the box… either when he is visiting her, or in quiet moments at home.

He will open the box and think of her – and smile at happy memories.

He will open the box and think of her – and allow sadness in.

He will close the box of Annie. And open the box of the life of John, Dad and Grandad and fill it. Fill it with adventures, of ice creams, silliness and cricket, rugby or tennis… making new friends and having fun.

This is a technique I started to apply on hearing about it. For Mum has been floating around my head like a ghost and interrupting everything in the life of Ali.

I am getting better. I tried to put Mum in box. At first the box was too small. Too plain. She wouldn’t go in. So typical of her. She never did want someone wanted her to do, if she didn’t want to do it first.

So I have covered it in diamonds and pearls. Her favourites.

And filled it with chocolates – Swiss. It had to be. She only ever ate Lindt. Anything else was inferior.

And filled it with kittens – Siamese kittens. Soft, silky and squeaky. Her babies.

She is going in more frequently now… a little less stubborn. And she is staying in her box more too.

I am finding I have control of the box, rather than her having control of my mind.

I can go to the box at any time and open the lid to check to see if she is ok. Sometimes, she is sleeping. Sometimes, she just looks up and smiles while playing with the kittens and waves to let me know she is ok.

Sometimes she invites me in for a chocolate. The sweetness of her treats, softens the bitterness of the memories.

Sometimes, I stay a while and let the memories float across my mind. The first time she picked me up from boarding school… I couldn’t see her in the crowd… only Dad with his wonky walk in the distance… but before I could get to him, being swept up in her arms and smothered with kisses, love and the smell of her Fendi perfume. The time she first held Tom… pride and love oozing from every part of her. The same memory tinged with sadness as I know she would be so proud of Tom now.. and Willy.

Sometimes, the painful memories creep in and I have to close the lid… The last time she came to Yorkshire and Tom flying out of the classroom door and in to Grandad’s arms… Mum not knowing who they were… and the realization that this would be the last time she saw them and the boys had her in their lives. And always the haunting memory of her face against the window pain, rattling at the door, trying to follow us out of the mental hospital.

I softly close the lid of the jeweled box and let her get back to her kittens and chocolates.

I softly close the lid of the jeweled box of Mum and go back to my life and know that I can visit whenever I want to, need to and would like to…

Topsy Turvy Days

Posted on October 31, 2015October 31, 2015 by Ali Mortimer

How strange today that I don’t feel like blogging. Because I usually love it.

How strange today that I don’t feel like dressing up. Because I usually love any excuse to wear fancy dress, get out my make up set…

How strange today that I don’t feel like trick or treating. Because I usually love leading the pack and knocking on dark doors…

How strange today that I don’t feel like being social. Because I usually love being with others.

How strange today that I don’t feel like doing anything. Because usually I love being busy.

How strange today that I don’t feel like speaking to anyone. Because usually I love sharing stories, laughing, debating.

How strange today that I just want to be left alone. Because I usually dislike solitude.

How strange today that I just want to sit and eat and lounge on my sofa. Because I usually dislike eating for no reason and dislike inactivity….

How strange today is…. I’m all topsy turvy.

It must be a full moon!

…..Or Halloween!!!

….. or just one of those days..!

Shattered

Posted on October 29, 2015October 29, 2015 by Ali Mortimer

The word that is resounding in my brain this evening as I sit to write my daily blog… is just ‘shattered’…

Shatter: “to be broken into fragments or become weak or insubstantial…”

I actually woke up this morning full of beans and that was despite minimal sleep over night last night – thanks to long drive and being overtired when I got into bed albeit early, I don’t think I nodded off until well after midnight… and also thanks to a little boy who was struggling to breathe due to a blocked nose who kept appearing in the darkness by my bedside… After the 3^rd time taking him back to bed, I let him crawl into bed with me… only to be kept awake by continual sniffing, snorting and then finally snoring… and a hot wriggling little body wanting to get closer and closer to me, little arms flinging around my head…

Normally a night like that would leave me ‘shattered’ in the morning, but I am still reaping the rewards of a very relaxing week away in Cornish air…

The shattering started with the car… that is making a very strange rattle somewhere underneath and making the steering wheel wiggle and jiggle when I go over 70… Not great… something has become weak… or ‘shattered’… and so I am car less for the next few days… stranded, while someone pieces back together or strengthens whatever it is that is no longer substantial enough to carry a tonne of Range Rover. (Thank goodness for my chauffeur – aka Grandpa!)

The second shattering… well, a rather excitable, ferocious, hilarious, energetic pillow fight by the boys and some friends in Tom’s room left his prize Christening present, in tiny fragments all over his carpet… shattered; a million tiny shards that was once a good old ‘yorkshire yard of ale’ glass, proudly mounted on the beams in his bedroom…. Gathering dust (lots of it!…) until his 18^th or 21^st when no doubt he would neck it and then follow in the Godfather who gave it to him’s footsteps and see the contents for a second time behind the marquee… This was not mendable…. Half an hour on my knees and a dustpan to gather all the pieces and I am still seeing tiny diamond shards glinting in his carpet. It will be slippers for a while. Disappointing… but to be honest, I am surprised it lasted the 7 plus years it has! He can save up for another…

The final shattering … me! I am now weak, insubstantial, in bits and pieces… for it was actually Willy who threw the cushion that destroyed the yard. Willy who is carbon copy of Mr OCD when it comes to perfection…. And he has to be perfect… hates to be told off, told he is wrong, not quite right… however, 32 years his junior, Willy has not yet controlled his temper, reactions to these situations of imperfection. The red mist descends… And I have learnt that the only thing to do in these times, is stay patient… but it takes every ounce of willpower within me to keep calm, remain unreactive, speaking softly so that I don’t feed the anger, stoke the flames of his frustration…. I have learnt to give him his space.. until he has pieced his shattered ego back together…

These little episodes can last as little as 15 minutes or a couple of hours before he reappears, wanting to share something he has discovered… before quietly and softly saying ‘I’m sorry for being bad / sad / mean, Mummy’… Tonight, given the lack of sleep from the night before, it took him longer to clear his thoughts… but as he siddled up to me on the sofa, and curled into me and said his little apology so sincerely, that’s when my tension dissipated… and my resolve shattered into little pieces, I weaken and become insubstantial… and I realize how much I have been holding my breath….

While the Yard can’t be mended or pieced back together and the car can be bolted, welded or fixed, I can also regain my strength…become substantial and whole…

It’s time for sleep.

Home Sweet Home

Posted on October 28, 2015 by Ali Mortimer

There is nothing like taking the last turn in to your own village after 360 mile journey…

There is nothing like driving back through your own gates and walking through your own front door…

There is nothing like carrying your sleeping boys up to their own beds and hearing their sighs of comfort as they snuggle under their own duvets….

There is nothing like unpacking the car on your own, laden with bags, boxes and rubbish… and realising for the first time how much easier it is when there is 2 of you.

There is nothing like realising how amazing single mum’s are… hats off to them!

There is nothing like leaning against the aga to sooth an aching back…feeling the warmth of your own kitchen and feeling waves of gratitude…

There is nothing like putting on the first of many washes and getting ahead of the game before bed…

There is nothing like munching on a piece of hot buttery toast as a reward for doing so well on a long drive alone…

There is nothing like the relief as you find the Halloween costumes have been delivered while you have been away…happy boys tomorrow!

There is nothing like opening 4 letters from HMRC explaining they have recalculated your tax for the YE 2013/14 and it is now double and you have multiple late payments (!)…. (Thank you, thank you, thank you… it must have meant I earnt a lot of money that year and benefitted from it at the time!!)

There is nothing like blogging on a laptop after a week of finger tapping on an iphone…

There’s nothing like getting in to your own bed, having your own pillow, a good book and an early night….

There’s nothing like home sweet home… There’s no place like home….

A bar of Menier… and the heart

Posted on October 21, 2015 by Ali Mortimer

A bar of Menier … and the heart

I love dark chocolate. Cold. Hard. From the fridge. I have a secret stash… I have to train my mind to forget where I hide it… I love the bitter sweet taste of it as it melts ..

It is a strange love… because it is one that was born out of secrecy and stealth. Mum always had hidden chocolate. Loads of it. Piles of posh chocs in the dining room… that were hers… and hers alone.

So my sister and I wouldn’t dare go near that pile… but I wonder if she ever knew that the Menier Chocolat Patissier, in its bright green paper wrapping, in the top compartment of the fridge used to deplete little by little, tiny square by tiny square over time… Her prize cooking chocolate, our consolation prize for not being allowed the treats gathering dust in the dining room, their boxes less shiny from the dust… but would show our finger prints!

So as I sit here and munch on my modern day G&B 85% (Morrisons had run out of Menier), I look at the picture I drew earlier today… part of my homework!

When I worked with my coach about how I wanted to shape my future, she asked me to bring in something that was special to me. I took my favourite piece of jewellery, the delicate Tiffany necklace that James gave me for our first Christmas in 1998. I have never seen anyone else wear one the same… it has 5 miniature Tiffany Hearts along a delicate chain. I love it. Other than my children and the cat, it would be the one thing I would run to save from a fire…

I started thinking about hearts.. and I realize I have them all over our house! Most of the door knobs and cupboard doors have a little heart on them; our Christmas decorations are hearts… I doodle hearts when I am bored in meetings!

So I decided to draw a heart… a real one… to see if I could see how and why the modern day heart is drawn as it is.. A quick sketch… while Tom drew Owen Farrell (the England Rugby Kicker) ..

And while we were drawing, both curled up on the sofa with our pencils, Olly Murs came on the radio… ‘I drew a broken heart… right on your window pane’…

So I hacked my heart… What would a real broken heart look like?

And as I drew a jagged, ugly, stapled scar right across it… it got me thinking that we all have had our hearts broken… or at least all of us non-psychopathic people… for broken hearts can be from anything from your first break up to your last, from lost babies, lost parents, lost friends… to when your child looks out of the class room window with tears and snot streaming down their faces as Willy did today, to the haunting memory of your Mum through locked doors and secure glass…

But each of those breaks, those dagger wounds… heal. They start open, bleeding, raw… but the human body, the human pschye is incredible…. Because we are self healing. We patch ourselves up with bandages, staples, stitches… until the muscles weave back together and mesh, bond, mend. They leave a scar, but along with the painful memory, it is a mark of success. A mark that we overcame something that hurt, but that we are stronger for it.

And they soon fade… the ones of my childhood as the goldfish died, the ones of my teenage years as we lost our first lacrosse match, the ones of my young adulthood as my first love said he no longer loved me in the car on the M40 just by the Watlington turn off…. The ones of my parenthood from losing multiple babies…. The scars are there… but softer, pinkish, faint.

Sometimes during the healing process… if you rush it, if your stitches and staples are sloppy, not given enough focus… another hurt, another bash or bruise, can make the scar open up again… just like a zipper! With the staples pinging off all over the place… blood gushing out, squirting like one of those funny scenes in ER or Greys Anatomy which always have me squirming and laughing as they all shout ‘Gauze! Get me gauze!’…

Those moments can leave us shouting ‘get me the wine! Lots of it!’… but it’s a bit like the gauze, it can only soak up a little bit of the pain… before you need to get back to work and heal properly… and only time can do that and hard work, reflection… and patience…. And compassion… for yourself.

For the only person that can heal your heart, is you.

And maybe a bar of Menier….

The tale of two Karens

Posted on October 20, 2015 by Ali Mortimer

A tale of two Karen’s…

To help me turn my ‘unhappy’ list into a happy one… I needed to enlist the help of 2 Karen’s… Both I consider good friends and both excellent in their chosen paths.

Karen… According to the Internet, the name ‘Karen’ is a Greek name and means ‘Pure’.

And both these wonderful ladies, friends are experts in purity and purifying others.

My date this morning was with the first KAren who purifies with her hands… We refer to my sessions as her time in the boxing ring as she pummels and kneads, before smoothing and softening .. Releasing the stress, sadness, guilt, anger, releasing the tension, releasing the toxins stored in my muscles… My muscles tired from carrying my burdens, often self imposed through my thoughts, my feelings….

And so while KAren is a magician with her hands, my date with the second KAren is like the scene in Harry Potter, where Dumbledore uses his wand to pull the memories from his mind and put them in the Pensieve. Like Dumbledore, Karen is a wizard, but she is a wizardess of the mind… She draws out what needs to be said… And holds it for me to see and make sense of it. We analyse the words together and go deeper in to the feelings and emotions attached…. We cleanse my mind of the bad thoughts, bad feelings… We put Dobby the house elf and my saboteur to rest … For the time being anyway!

I get homework from both…. Karen with the magic hands tells me to drink lots of water to continue to flush out the toxins. Karen with the magic words advises me to continue to let the words and expressions out… To flush out the thoughts and feelings through self expression – whether through the written word, drawing or anything creative.

So it has been a day of personal purification… And I learnt that self-care, self-cleansing, self-awareness is absolutely required and should be done guilt free…

…the guilt that I usually feel for taking time for myself has diminished (still there a little… but a lot less). I have appreciated that this afternoon, I was a far calmer, far more relaxed and had the ability to give more attention to Tom as he wanted to take me for lunch (he wanted to pay… but needed my wallet!)… had more patience to sit and watch the boys and their friend rag round the park for well over an hour (I usually get itchy feet after 40 minutes!), get on the swings with them and see who could swing the highest or until we were sick! So the time I spent on myself this morning, paid back and gave others joy… and my boys went to be happy …. and dirty – grubby knees can be washed in the morning! ..

So a day of asking for help… and of personal purification I recommend it.

I strongly recommend it….

…….

And if you need help…. Here are my Karens…

http://ks-sports-massage.uk/

http://www.houseofcoaching.co.uk/index.php

The Rollercoaster

Posted on October 17, 2015 by Ali Mortimer

I started this blog exactly a month ago. I should be congratulating myself… I have kept to the challenge…. Spent half an hour each day to get whatever is on my mind on paper – the objective to help me get through the sandwich years; the trials and tribulations of worrying about my parents as my Mum declines and my Dad starts life afresh with out her… alongside the daily grind of childcare as a single mum 5 days of the week… and at the same time, the mental and emotional turmoil of the transition from professional career women to professional … ‘what’?

If the intention of this daily journaling or modern day blogging was to release the emotions out of my head, my heart, then its working…

The tears are back. And this time with anger… rather than the sadness of the other day…

I reflect at the exhaustion yesterday which is unlike me as I usually have so much energy… is the exhaustion from continually hiding my true feelings and being so British and having a ‘stiff upper lip’, forcing the positivity? Or is it just because it is half term and everyone gets exhausted at this time of year?

Or is this more? Am I hiding emotions deep down, suppressed that I still haven’t quite let go of yet?

I ask myself and wonder if the roller coaster ever stops? I look back and see loops of ups and downs – many now distant memories, gone in the hazy mist of the forgotten past… but there are still 2 vast loops still fresh, crystal clear that keep pulling my gaze backwards…:

The dramatic, crescendo-ing loop of the process of deciding to leave my corporate life, professional life 2 years ago, with a little dip as I enter freelance consulting and then a mini loop within the bigger loop as that is no longer a possibility with our lives as they are logistically, currently.

Another loop, one that leaves your heart behind you, out of your chest, breathless; short sharp, sudden and one that makes you grateful for your harness and the hands to hold around you.

From all the books I have read, I know you should never look back, never look in your rear view mirror while you are still travelling forward; for if you do, the crash is inevitable.

Is this the crash?

Or is this just me looking at the current corkscrew of my roller coaster and realizing I am going too fast, rushing from one thing to a next, taking too much on…

Or is this just grief…

I remember many years ago when we moved to Yorkshire, I had lost a baby at 14 weeks and the loss shocked me, devastated me. My head agreed with everyone that it was nature’s way, that it was a good thing, that I should focus on the positives and move forward. But my heart couldn’t deal with it. I had a wonderful grief counseller at the time, who helped work out that the grief I was feeling wasn’t just for my lost baby, but also for the loss of my London life, my bestest friends now gone from my weekly or monthly routine; the loss of my parents support; the loss of my maternal surname ‘Brooksy’; the loss of my identity for now I was James’ wife, or Ivan & Louise’s daughter-in-law; the loss of my daily routines… She helped me refill my cup and replace the lost routines, lost friends, lost family and lost identity with a new one…. Who did I want Ali Mortimer to be?

Willy asked me this morning, if Granny Brooks had died – was that why I was sad? I answered truthfully that she hadn’t died but that part of her had. I smiled through my tears this morning as he asked, ‘is it her arm or her leg that is dead?’ I explained that it wasn’t a limb, but her brain that had died. I love his reply as it sums up so much of what I am feeling and why… ‘Oh… so she doesn’t know anything?’… ‘She doesn’t remember you or anything about you?’….

So is this grief for the loss of my Mum stirring up many more emotions of loss; the loss of my Mum’s memories of me, my life, my children; the loss of James in my day to day life, someone to hold every night, discuss daily nonsense with… the loss of friends who you realise aren’t really true friends… the loss of my routine, my schedule…

My best friend used to live a 5 minute drive away; she now lives a 5 hour drive away… and I am resisting getting in the car in my pj’s to drive to see her. I know she would be the medicine I need. Even for just 5 minutes.

But would that just be escapism? Would that be just like throwing myself off the rollercoaster carriage… ?

I know what I really need to do… I need to repeat what I did nearly 9 years ago. Refill my cup, rebuild my life, make peace with the past and move forward. Make new friends – like my wonderful Clifton Coffee Mums, who I am so grateful to have met; continue to embrace the new routine that we are creating which is much more of a focus on family at the weekends, rather than social; continue to embrace the evolution of my purpose. I originally wrote career and then profession, but now I feel that I am doing more; career is very egocentric… I like purpose – more of an emphasis on others.

I need to let this current corkscrew of the roller coaster and the two behind me fade in to the distance so I can no longer see them… I need to take from them the pieces that will serve me as life lessons going forward and let the rest of the scaffolding collapse….

I need to reset and focus on creating the path ahead of me stable for me, for my boys… I need to be ready for the next dip and dive of the rollercoaster that surely life will throw me… and rather than throw myself off into oblivion, use the harness, use the support I trust and hold on and enjoy the thrill… enjoy the adventure… and as the wind whistles through my hair and the scenery hurtles by, know that the past is the past and that is the best place for it…

…and finally the tears…

Posted on October 14, 2015 by Ali Mortimer

….and finally the tears…

Today started well. A lovely beautiful autumnal morning, beautiful light streaming through the house..

The boys perfectly behaved, both did their homework before they left for school, no tears or tantrums and just jolly little faces.

I was really looking forward to walking the dog along the river, to listening to the peace and quiet, the gentle trickling of the river and perhaps a chapter of my book.

But within 5 minutes, I had been shouted at by 2 dog owners. So I have turned round and am now shaking on my sofa…

Maybe this was the situation I needed to get the pent up anger and frustration out? But where is the anger directed? At the dog? At James? At his parents? At life? At the universe? Life has recently sent me a lot of change, a lot of upset, weirdness, emotion and I have been treading water to stay afloat, stay positive, keeping my head above water so I can see the positives and the horizon to swim for… this small trivial scenario seems to have been a great big hand that has pushed me under the water.

As I sit in my sunlit snug, I can feel the cold tears on my cheeks and it feels good to cry.

Finally.

And while the darkness of the murky water and sadness shrouds me, I can see bubbles and the light above me…

Time to head up and breathe…

Time to tread water, because my lists and plans await me… they are my strong strokes towards the shore, dry land… safety. I hope there is a large mojito waiting for me!

And there’s my smile….

All good.

The dog is sorted. No longer my responsibility. #Ididntwantadog (https://ididntwantadog.wordpress.com/2015/06/17/hello-world/)

Right – where’s my list!

Self Doubt and the unknown whisperer…

Posted on October 13, 2015October 13, 2015 by Ali Mortimer

Self doubt seems to be a recurring theme today…

I woke up with a sense of it…

It was the topic of the audio I downloaded and listened to today from a business coach…

It was the highlight of the chapter in my book today…

I am trying to make sense of it. Why today do I have this feeling? Why is everything pointing at learning and understanding it?

I am trying to make sense of it. Am I doubting myself as a mother, a daughter, a wife, a business owner, a friend, a person, an individual?

I am trying to make sense of it.

I am using all the tricks up my sleeve to get rid of it. For each doubting thought that enters my mind, I bat it back with an ace… Snow White standing up to Dobby…

It’s noisy in my head today…

Doubting Doris whispers in my right ear: so you think you are a bad mother: you think you spend more time with Tom than you do Willy? That’s why he had a melt down last week…

Someone whispers in my left: look at your beautiful boys, they are happy, healthy, well fed, amazing feedback from school. Tom had a meltdown too… It’s half term – they are both tired.

You are a good, patient and very loving mother.

Doubting Doris whispers in my right ear: so you think you have abandoned your Mum, leaving your Dad to fend for himself, looking for someone to look after him?

Someone whispers back: you did everything you could to get both your Mum and Dad safe… it’s good that Mum has been sectioned again today – another move would be another disruption… it’s good that your Dad can get on with his life! Let him!

You are a loyal, caring daughter.

Doubting Doris whispers in my ear: James is going to paris on Friday, choosing to go there rather than come to Cornwall with us… I haven’t been myself, I am sad and boring, he doesn’t want to be with me, the chaos, my family… not surprised he wants the luxury and sophistication of Paris!

Someone whispers back: that’s ridiculous! Utterly absurd. He lives in luxury and sophistication all week and is desperate every weekend to come home and have family time! This is business and an exciting opportunity…

You are a fantastically supportive, loving wife.

Doubting Doris whispers in my ear: why on earth did you think you could build a business from scratch? You know nothing about sales, marketing, skincare or health…

Someone whispers back: you have washed all your life, learnt about health through experience, you have coached teams to success for over 15 years, learnt new skills, become brilliant at them. There is nothing you can’t achieve once you are decided…

You are a success. You have a thriving business.

Doubting Doris whispers in my ear: go back to work… go back to work… it’s what you know!

Someone whispers back: The past is there to teach you and the future is there for the taking! Work didn’t work… for you or the family. Use your intuition… you can make this work! Change is evolution… it is a good thing. Embrace it!

You are brave. You are strong enough to take the road less travelled.

Doubting Doris whispers in my ear: you are just a glorified taxi driver, gym bunny, professional coffee date goer…. That person you used to take pity on as you dashed in to throw your kids in to nursery and school…

Someone whispers back: you are so much more! Your children love having you around, you are a healthier happier version of you! You are doing all the things you have ever wanted – teach in schools, teach people to be healthy and happy, with your children when they need you, there for your parents, there for Mr OCD to proof read, QA check, brainstorm and be a sounding board…

You are living a life of abundance, richness and full of good things… you are lucky to have such a life!

Doubting Doris whispers in my ear: your blog is repetitive, boring, not helpful..

Someone whispers back: it’s helping you… out of your head and on to paper… What about all the positive comments you have received? How what you say resonates with others, how it has helped the them… look at the numbers of how many people read it! And anyway… who cares!? This was for you…

You are a writer. You are a creative writer. You are inspiring others.

Who is this someone who is fighting my corner? Giving me a pep talk… holding me up… ?

Could it be? It couldn’t be Self Belief could it?

Where are the brakes?

Posted on October 12, 2015 by Ali Mortimer

Where are the brakes?

10pm and the sudden realisation that the day has gone and I almost missed a day of blogging!

Where did the day go?

Where are the weeks going?

Did someone say it was half term this Friday?! I thought I had another week! Eek!!!

Time is just racing by… I am hurtling along in a roller coaster, flying round and round…. Never really slowing as I go through the start gates… or are they the end gates?

Any one else feel like that?

Tom is nearly 8, Willy already 6… if the time continues to speed up like it is currently, accelerating every year to go past faster… will we soon enter Warp Speed? Will I wake up one morning, the boys taller than Daddy, leaving home to go to Uni, live in London?

Tonight I will hold them closer, snuffle their faces for longer, linger longer to hug them while they sleep…

Soon they will have left the house and the noise and the clutter, the grassy boots flung by the door, the left up toilet seats, clothes in heaps, discarded book bags, laughter and giggles, the occasional thud, little elephant feet running along the landing and long, heart felt cuddles, hot cheeks against mine… will all be but a distant memory… and there will be quiet.

And how I will miss them.

Where are the brakes? Can you slow the hours? The minutes?

I am going to take one… and live in the moment and appreciate the delicious, delightful chaos that is my life.