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Tuesday, 26 July 2011

Gone are the....

 

We had another 'sort' of toy boxes. I decided we needed a thin out when we hit the six toy boxes mark - it's a small flat, and they're only little! 

I created the hammock shown on this post here for all the soft toys (apart from the beloved Doggy Puppy) and then - with the assistance of the toddler - ruthlessly sorted the rest. 

I feel good - I managed to cut it from six boxes to two. Well, three, but one is small and contains the train track pieces so they're kept together, and fits inside the bigger one. One big box in the lounge which gets put away before bed, one big box in his bedroom which gets put away before his bath. 

Gone are the jigsaws with missing pieces.

Gone are the cars with missing wheels.

Gone are the diggers with broken buckets.

Gone are the wax crayons. All of them. 

Gone are the story books with torn or coloured in pages. (sob)

Gone are the things that came free with magazines/from the 99p shop.

Gone are the toys that have been in the bath that shouldn't have.

Gone are the toys that Daddy stood on and snapped. 

Gone is the car thing that makes TOO MUCH NOISE.

Gone are the colouring books that are coloured, on every page.

The sole survivor of the 'missing a piece' set cull is Mister Potato Head. I'm hoping the one missing piece shows up soon - it's a pretty vital piece; his actual head. I have all the parts to stick INTO his head (including his bum flap) but not his head. I suspect he may have been thrown mid-move, Daddytwo was muttering about getting rid of him after stepping on a tiny arm again! I'm not sure what to do if he doesn't turn up - maybe we'll  just stab his extremities into an actual potato, old skool - or maybe a cucumber? 

Monday, 25 July 2011

Mommatwo's Monday Dream Meme

It's still Monday - just - and here is the Meme for the week. 

It's been another manic week here - my dreams have mainly consisted of journeys that are constantly de-railed and big, rambling buildings in which I keep  discovering new rooms filled with dusty old crap or with incredible big ballrooms with sparkling chandeliers and immense windows with beautiful views (of the Lake District) outside. 

I discovered one of my old note books this weekend which I used in part as a dream diary (and partly to whinge about how much I hated my job and uni) and there was a dream in there that struck a chord. Probably because I have children now so it felt different. 

The dream was of giving birth, at home in a room alone whilst my family were in other rooms. I shouted them through to help because the baby was very small and premature and I needed them to help me. Nobody came when I called for a long time, and when they did come the baby shrivelled up and didn't look real. As soon as they left the room the baby came back to life and wriggled around in my arms, tiny and perfect - but as soon as anyone else came near he went back to being a dried up doll. I tried to tell everyone that he was real, and mine, and none of them believed me and they ridiculed me and tried to take the baby away but I wouldn't let them.

It was a pretty harrowing dream at the time and it makes me feel bad again now thinking about it, but I understand what it meant now and it makes a lot of sense, thinking how I felt at the time. 

Dreaming of giving birth and of having a baby is dreaming of my own 'innocent, inner self' - the child inside me that needs protecting and preserving, the innocence in me. The baby being small and struggling to thrive is because that innocent self was struggling to thrive at the time, I was very unhappy. Nobody else seeing the baby alive and me struggling to convince them it WAS meant that I was struggling to be vulnerable or real in front of my friends and family - which I very much was. The baby turning into a doll represented my desire to retreat from adult responsibilities and revert to a more innocent, child like state where I could be cared for by those family members and friends - but I couldn't communicate it to them. The baby appearing shrivelled and lacking life meant difficulty emotionally, and hard times. All true of that time in my life. It was an indication that I needed to take more care of myself, to rely on the people around me more to care for me. 

It wasn't a nice dream to remember - but in a way I'm glad that I did, because it has shown me how far I've come since the unhappiness I felt at university - I completed my degree and did reasonably well, I found a happy life, a wonderful husband and have a beautiful family. I'm happy now in ways I didn't know I could ever be and didn't really believe in - and remembering old pain shows me how much happier I am. Even now, when I have days that I'm struggling, my bad days aren't as bad as the bad days then were. The bad days now are about as bad as the GOOD days then were - so I've come a very long way!

A little depressing as a dream meme - I hope you can brighten the mood this week with your own dreams!  

mommatwo

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