Our house is very quiet at the moment.
Over the weekend we had our best mates here, all the way from the dry and dusty Mallee (to dry and dusty and smoke hazed Gippsland…) It is always such a mission to visit each other, being four or five hour drive and with very small people thrown in the mix, but always (always!) well worth the effort…
A weekend of our favourite people, pizza and cheese and ciders, overtired toddlers, a squishy delicious baby. This is the stuff that fills my cup, bucket even, to overflowing. Matt’s best mate who happens to be married to my best mate, who happen to have a small person the same age as Harriet, doing this season of our life together (albeit hundreds of kilometres between us) – it’s all a pretty good combination for the soul.
A realisation that the things which fill my cup are pretty simple too: feeding people who I love, sharing food, a chaotically messy house but happy tired faces tucked into beds at night. I most definitely did clean my house before our house guests arrived, but I also freely admitted these are probably the only people who I wouldn’t bat an eyelid if I didn’t (plus, y’know, my house definitely needed cleaning #necessity) That sort of friendship is pretty great, and rare, unfortunately. Where it’s easy and slow and no matter the time or distance it remains the same.
I am as guilty as the next person of wanting more, looking for more, more, more more, glorifying the busy-ness, thinking of what we don’t have instead of what we do… but weekends like the one we just enjoyed shove me well back into my place of gratitude and humility.
I could think how we don’t have a house big enough to accomodate guests really, instead of being grateful that we have a perfectly adequate roof over our heads, a home which is full of giggles and mess.
I could think of the outdoor entertaining area we have envisaged for the future, instead of marvelling at our glorious chestnut tree and the simple art of making our pizzas on the back lawn, and the hard work and patience that one day we will.
I could compare and analyse and agonise about my pre-schooler’s behaviour or my parenting compared to others, instead of embracing this season, giving ourselves grace and patience and learning. Always learning.
My bestie Kate always leaves me refreshed and inspired and generally amazed at her patient and considered parenting. A drop into my cup is even enough for a bit of momentum in the right direction from Aunty Kate. People who add value and purpose are the right kind of people to surround yourself with, in case you were in doubt.
I read two random Instagram/Facebook scrolling ‘quotes’ in the past 24 hours which resonated with me to the point of fog horn alarm ringing:
“Stick with people who pull the magic out of you, not the madness.”
“Do more things which make you forget to check your phone.”
Our time with our besties always does both of these things – well needed, well due, well played Universe, putting our paths across each others. I don’t know if I believe in fate or destiny or a pre-determined plan as such, you make choices and direct your own path, but sometimes people are put in your life to help guide that path, gently pushing and pulling you towards your purpose. These people are our people.
We ate, we laughed, we rolled eyes together, we swam, we ate some more, some didn’t get much sleep, some did. Machinery shed tours and veggie patch watering and egg collecting and pool maniac Harriet and Captain Cautious Hunter.
I am always grateful to be sharing this ride of mamahood and farmer wife life with those that get it, live it, and evolve with it. That’s half the fun… I hope in ten years time we look back on these years of muddling through busy farmer husbands and crying babies and toilet training toddlers and bossy pre-schoolers with lots of eye creases from laughing and grey hairs from worrying about things which weren’t worth worrying about. (Like sleep, toddler and baby sleep, when will we stop talking about it?!)
Now, Eleanor has started kinder, our friends have continued on their way and Harriet is asleep, exhausted from all of the “hold Pippaaaa, hold babeeeee Pipppaaaa!”
So yes the house is quiet. Too quiet.
The beautiful chaos that is raising children with your village is a cacophony when you’re in the thick of it, but I’m hoping to glean some wisdom from my bestie to slow down and soak it in as I go. Or just enjoy the ride at the very least, we’ll have those laughter lines and grey hairs before we know it (or maybe we already do…)