diamond in the rough
Please excuse the cliche title – it’s worth it, I promise.
Yesterday we celebrated Percy’s 1st birthday with family and friends; a small gathering at my parent’s house complete with butterfly cakes, homemade sausage rolls and a fruit platter. It was lovely – a gaggle of kids running around the garden, parents chatting, balloons popping. I even managed, for the first time in my birthday-party-organising career, to stay relatively level-headed. It was completely stress-free! A welcome relief considering the intensity of the past few weeks.
The next few weeks are brimming, too. Daniel and I have never had this much going on before (says the grateful freelancers) but right now we’re in the midst of a professional downpour. It’s fine until you factor in the whole finding a house scenario, packing, moving and day-to-day life with three children.
We’re tired, too. And at the risk of rabbiting on about the weather, I’m going to say that this humidity/Indian summer/endless summer/climate-change-is-real summer has left us all fed-up and weary. Just look at my fringe! This is not ideal fringe weather! And breastfeeding a wriggling one-year-old in this weather? Sweaty, to say the least.
To top off the intensity of the past few weeks, I also lost a diamond from my engagement ring (which was once Daniel’s Grandmother’s eternity ring). I noticed it was gone a fortnight ago when we returned from the beach and I was convinced it was in the ocean, gone forever. Of course I was devastated – a family heirloom is not the same if part of it needs to be replaced.
But last night, as I was dressing Percy after his evening shower, there was a glimmer of hope. I started thinking about the work that needed to be done, how tired I felt, the fact that we still needed to find a house, the paperwork I needed to organise for our mortgage, the upcoming school week…and just as I was about to burst into tears I look down and see a diamond on the floorboards – sparkling.
It was just sitting there, between the doorframe and the firewood basket, in the exact spot I had swept and vacuumed at least ten times since I lost it. In that moment it felt like Grandma Bell was telling me it was all going to be ok. The work will get done, I’ll get some good sleep soon, we’ll find a house just right for us, it’s all good.
Breathing easier now.