Sunday is a family day. Most of my friends have families, a 'proper' family. They do 'stuff' on weekends.
It's not weekends in their entirety that I dread, Saturdays are not a problem, children come to play on Saturdays, friends call round, the shops are open, there are jobs to do. But then Sunday happens...
Even the children feel it. Friends are busy doing family stuff. I know we are a family, but the rest of my family are not close by, I feel isolated and a little lost.
My first instinct is to run away, make arrangements, go to visit. But most people are busy. Then I persuade myself to sit it out. I can't run every time, we are three and we can have good times. We can, I know, we have today, but it took a long time to let go of the feeling of being alone, of being different, of trying too hard. It's over now, for a while. The week is full of work and school and children's clubs and classes. We come together at the end and we are happy, we are a family, it feels 'normal'. Why can't I do that on a Sunday?
So today I wandered, indecisively thinking of several things to do at once. Tall Girl wanted to go to Grannies, but I was determined not to run, not this time. We got it together in the end. You can see the fruits of our day in the photo(ignore the date on it, don't know how to change it!). We cooked and iced and got sticky and messy and felt a bit sick! We had fun. We were a family, just us three. I can do it, we can do it. I just need some more practice. I guess there will be plenty of that.
This was Small Sprogs cake. He was proud of his icing skills.
The picture on the cake is of our house, with my car outside.
He says he chose to ice this because it is a 'happy house'.
I cherished the words.