I’m grateful for….ducks on the road
It was Thursday. I had now been working full time for one week and one day, there was only one day to go until school holidays, the countdown was on. I had promised my class we would celebrate a great term (and winning the best book week classroom display) with pizza and ice cream. The pizza would be supplied but I had to go and get ice cream and cones and serviettes and stickers and whistles, before 5pm. The shops would be open much later than that, but if I didnt get home by 5pm our nightly routine would be out the door. It has taken us 15 months to get Little Miss A to sleep through the night and NOTHING is going to mess up the routine we have going.
To say it is a rush in an understatement. I race home, run inside, get changed, dress the kids, search for missing shoes. I can feel my blood presure rising it is already past 4 o-clcok. I throw put them in the car. We race towards the shops, I am making mental lists in my mind of what I need to get and which shops I will go to first, will I get the pram out or just put Miss A in a trolley. The pleading for a trip to the playground has already started from the backseat. and then I …..STOP. IN. MY. TRACKS. Literally. The brakes have done their job and we have come to an abrupt halt. Because…..
Their are ducks on the road. Not just any ducks but very, slow, ducks. Do they not know I am in a hurry? There is no longer whinging coming from the back seat. My shopping list has disappeared from my frantic mind. Suddenly we are in the moment. Just looking at the ducks. We beep the horn. No response they just keep on walking. So we have no choice but to just stop. and breathe. and talk. Where are the ducks going Mummy? Are they coming to the shops with us? Why aren’t they in the lake? Where is there Mother?
Eventually the ducks move to the side of the road and we can pass. Of course we are now WAY behind schedule. But we don’t notice too much because we are too busy talking and luaghing about the ducks on the road. If they went to the shops what would they buy?
Whilst at the shops it hits 5pm. The shopping is done but now Master O is desperate to play in the playground. My head feels clear and our own little bit of duck chat has lightened my mood. So my own little ducks follow me to the playground and we play. The routine is gone but that’s just what happens. I will probably pay the price that night but right now that seems a long time away.
We get home and eat dinner and talk about the ducks. Daddy comes home and we talk about the ducks and show him our photo. We have a bath and wish the ducks could join us in the bubbly water.
So this week I am grateful for ducks on the road. For it means it must be spring and the days are finally getting longer.
I am grateful for the ducks because their slow waddle halted my crazy rush and gave me time to just breathe, in my car, with my kids, in THAT MOMENT.
I am grateful for the laughter and discussions the ducks brought with them stories of ducks with lifejackets and ducks that eat duck pancakes for dinner (oh the cannibals!)
I am grateful that I live somewhere where I can get to the shops in 5 minutes and yet still see ducks on the road.
and I am grateful that, that night Little Miss A still slept through the night even though we didn’t make the 7pm bedtime bus. Maybe she was dreaming of slow waddling ducks.
Linking up with Maxabella Loves.