She spins around, hands above head, creating her own music “da da dum, da da dum” the little voice tinkles, until she twirls to a stop, one foot pointed to the side. At 16 months, she is too small for ballet lessons, but, inspired by a friend and my little dancer, we had our afternoon craft sorted. The boys slept as she delightfully helped me rummage through the fabric tub, and the scraps I knew were in there quickly surfaced, and to my delight, matched perfectly with some larger peices in a bag at the top of the tub.
We sit side by side on the loungeroom floor, and I lay out the fabric. A shiny piece of teal organza catches her eye, and she twirls with delight as it billows behind her. I call her back, and roughly measure the length I’ve chosen, to ensure it will fit right. She squeals and runs of as I begin looping layers of organza around the elastic loop on my leg. Her breathy giggles are warm in my ear as she runs back to me, and tries to pull it away from me. Run, pull. Run, pull. And at last it is finished, and she snatches it and runs away to inspect it. As I call, she reluctantly returns, and I help her step in, before she floats off in a puff of orange and pink.
It’s been a quiet day in the nest today, with three little people and their mama recovering from a tummy bug. Movies for them, pottering about cleaning interspersed with snuggles and Facebook for me. Thank goodness for iPhones. A story or two, long naps, a bit of craftiness. Slowly beginning to reassemble the bombsite formerly known as my studio. Taking it slow and easing into the weekend. Show weekend. Getting our tummies better so we can abuse them with chips and pluto pups and way too much fairy floss. Where’s that ferris wheel? Plenty of fun to be had, the weekend’s here at last. Bring it on!