I like words. I like the way they sound. Blather. Lather. Slather. These are funny words and even funnier if they are said together really quickly. Sometimes I do this with the boys - run words together and make them laugh to stop a melt-down in its tracks. It always works. I am rewarded with a half laugh half cry. They plaster on their I-won’t-fall-for-that-face but they are laughing and desperately trying not to, after all they have a point to prove.
Recently, I happened upon the term “joy pockets” and the words alone captivated me.
Joy pockets. Joy in your pocket. A teeny tiny bit of joy, just enough to make you smile. Just enough to fit in your pocket. A little something to lift you up.
Like making the lights before they change. Getting in the house just seconds before the rain. Opening the newspaper and discovering your favourite author’s new book has been released. Finding the odd euro coin rattling round in the washing machine. Except the time when it jammed in the filter and made all that water on the floor. Definitely not a joy pocket. Moving on.
I’ve found a rogue peanut M&M the odd time and that for me is a tiny joy pocket. I’m a simple soul. But you get the picture.
So I’ve decided to take note of my joy pockets. All the things that I am grateful for. The winter is in and this is the time of year I need to be on my game and watch out for that sneaky bastard depression/SAD/winter blues/moaney-hole-bitch fest making an appearance.
I am going to take full and careful note of all the joy pockets that come my way each day and revel in them.
The following are my joy pockets for the month of November so far.
Watching our boys go through a large box containing broken toys, bits and pieces from Happy Meals and other old tat. It gave me a chance to have a sneaky cup of tea and a piece of chocolate.
The swimming coach advising that our second boy, the quieter, shyer one, go down a level and join Tadpoles instead of being in Frogs. As a result he is progressing much quicker and loving every minute of it. It’s fantastic watching his confidence grow in the water.
On the same joy pocket being told that the Frog can leave off one armband and become a Penguin. The three year old has also mastered belly flops. Nothing like hearing that slap as a little belly hits the water and he resurfaces laughing in delight.
Incoming! Massive joy pocket coming up. When the shy boy put in a special request for a new friend in his class to come to our Halloween party. There is nothing like your kids making friends, creating their own little back up team in school, to reassure their mother that they are, at last, settling in. Because that is, after all, the only reason they make friends: to keep their mothers happy.
Yet another massive joy pocket on the way. Our eldest, who, if I am to be completely honest, was not great at reading, deciding of his own accord to pick up a book over the mid-term break and read it cover to cover. He has continued to do so and makes excellent
attempts to sound out any unfamiliar words.
He has also started to write stories!!!! These are hilarious for the simple reason he writes them phonetically. And it’s very bad phonetics. But I love that he is putting his heart and soul into it and partly because he told me it is because, “you love writing stories, Mammy. Now I do too!”
Running. My time for myself. Just me and my thoughts and the radio. Runs at the weekend, 7am runs, runs around the garden with lovely, shiny Juno for company and feeling great afterwards.
Finding my favourite wine for just 7 euros. So I bought two.
Messy chocolate kisses from Smallest Boy. Sticky, mucky, melty chocolaty mess and his delighted laughs when I feign disgust.
Gorgeous, happy, smiley school photographs of our eldest boys. The morning they were taken, I switched their school shirts. But you couldn’t tell in the picture.
Saturday morning family breakfasts. Sometimes loud and always getting my toast or my blueberry muffin stolen, but lovely to sit together for the only family meal we manage all week.
Playing spit bubbles with the shy boy and letting him blow the biggest one.
Alert! Alert! Having a small piece published in The Guardian newspaper. A small paid piece in the Guardian newspaper.
Immediately after reading the email from The Guardian, discovering another one looking for copy for Monday morning.
Completing four submission pieces for another magazine over the weekend. Without wine and Home and Away for distraction. I can do this shit when I want to!!
My wonderful bright and colourful, albeit smaller but perfectly fitting new Shock Absorber arriving via courier. Wonder did he have any idea what was in that large black bin bag.
Taking my wonderful bright and colourful, albeit smaller but perfectly fitting new Shock Absorber for a run the following day.
Being part of a lovely blogging community on Facebook where I get wonderfully constructive feedback. And a boost when I need it.
My lovely, lovely breastfeeding support group on Tuesday mornings. Even though Smallest Boy weaned during the summer, I am still allowed to come out and play. The best cup of coffee and conversation all
week. A fantastic, support network of
wonderful, funny, warm and welcoming women who make me laugh and remind me
every week that we are all in this massive motherhood boat together. That it is not a competition, that it is
hard, damn hard, but most
importantly, it is so worth it.