Sometimes the words of this blog have flowed freely, buzzing with energy and humming with warmth.
Other times my brain has simply said no. Like a dried up sponge, it has refused to give.
But none of that matters, really. However the posts happen… they happen.
And they’ve happened enough for this to come knocking on the backdoor of my last post.
A moment of pleasant surprise.
One hundred posts.
One Hundred Sunny Mummy Days.
It was a moment that struck me harder than I imagined it would.
You might think one hundred is too small a number to celebrate.
But to me, one hundred is good.
It’s been one hundred opportunities to offer the world my perspective.
One hundred chances to offer my friendship. My knowledge.
My lack of knowledge.
It’s been one hundred chances to share my humanity with the world.
And one hundred chances for the world to share their humanity with me.
To those I’ve met along the way, thank you.
For the humanity.
For the inspiration.
And for the moments; big, little, happy and sad.
Until tomorrow, then.
xx Miss Cookas
There used to be a baby in my herb garden.
Oh, how that baby took my breath away.
How he made my heart sing.
Him and his chunky feet.
And his little sausage fingers.
How they delighted in their new world.
Oh, my poor herb garden; lost to the seasons, harsh and cold.
And the baby. He’s gone now, too.
But just look at who has taken his place.
The wide eyed toddler.
Curious and wild.
Happy and cross, all at the same time.
And today, in this moment, he is wondering…
Whatever happened to the herb garden?
One day it will be time.
And when it is, I’ll tell him with kindness:
All things grow and change.
Just like him.
Just like my baby in the herb garden.
It’s toddler’s first trip to the car wash, today.
What a splishy, sploshy adventure this will be!
There’s all sorts of fun to be had at the car wash.
So many moments to seize.
Ah! The characters you’ll find at the car wash!
Now, these guys know how to put on a good show.
Oh, the froth monster? Don’t worry about him.
It’s his pesky high pressured friend you’ve got to look out for.
That fella is a real toe biter…
That’s why Mummy came prepared.
It’s such hard work at the car wash.
Come on,boys. Let’s go home.
The froth monster looks like he could use the rest.
Buddy! What did you do?
Ah. I see.
Well, that looks like fun, honey. But I have a better idea.
That’s the way, my little love.
You’re hungry, now?
Okay, sweetheart. Let’s go inside. Let’s have some lunch.
Maybe we’ll just leave this mess, for now.
Daddy can clean it, later.
The toddler throws himself onto the ground in front of a bed of bright orange tulips.
‘Nooooo!! Noooooo!!’ his tinny voice cuts through the air, straight into the part of my brain that just does not want to go to toddler town, today. Because it’s the kind of day where everything flashes beneath the splendor of the sun, and there’s a sea of tulips that look like they’ve been expertly painted into their beds, right there. But the toddler doesn’t care—the toddler is feeling emotional. The toddler has other plans.
Now I’m pawing at the toddler’s arms and I’m trying to pull him up off the dusty red ground and, I’ll be honest, things are looking grim. It’s me against a nineteen month old with a chip on his shoulder. I shake my head and look around for Daddy, who’s disappeared among the tulips and become just another head in the crowd. It’s my job to head into the mess of tulips to take some happy snaps, but since the boy has other plans, so far I’ve snapped a total of one blurry shot.
I give up on the photo idea and suddenly my little angel and I are actually enjoying this. Together. Turns out, the toddler is a fan of tulips. And who could blame him. I mean, just look.
It’s been a long day. The toddler’s pooped and Mister C and I drag our weary legs homeward.
I’ve loved the tulips. But then this happens: the most beautiful moment of all.
Because when the Sun shines so brightly, I just know it’s my Nan shining down from her place in heaven. And I’ve just realised that today, she’s been right there tip toeing through the tulips with me.
No moment could be greater.