Out of Balance

MONDAY
It begins, as things often do, with breakfast.

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Here is my bowl and spoon. I have utilised these most excellent tools to consume my breakfast every day for as long as I can remember (excluding sleepovers, of course). Yes, read that twice – as long as I can remember. This bowl, this spoon, my entire life. Yup.

Monday morning, we were running so late for school. It was a breakfast or bust situation. I knew I was visiting a close friend immediately after drop off, so I slapped a lid on my bowl (yes, it has a lid) and packed all the essentials into a bag. After depositing Orion in class, I zipped around to my friend’s place and ate breakfast at her dining table. All was well.

TUESDAY.
My bowl is GONE. After some frantic searching and some under-the-breath swearing, I realise I left it behind at my friend’s house. I eat breakfast out of an imposter, with a spoon that is intended for ice cream. I got in contact with Niki asap and she assured me my treasures were safe.

However, the world was not safe. Gale force winds had rolled in late Monday night and they were here to stay. As I drove to the supermarket, I spotted my 90 year old grandparents literally being blown down the street. I pulled over, manhandled them into my car and drove them home. My nana admitted she had been frightened. The wind had actually blown her, at a run, down the street and Grandad had been hard pressed to catch her. She offered me jelly beans out of gratitude. I take the container, intending to offer them to Piper in the back. Instead of reaching carefully behind me, a muscle in my arm goes twang and I catapult the jelly beans over my shoulder. Piper’s face is suffused with confusion as jelly beans rain down around her, pelting her face and body and clattering across the car seat and all over the floor. I stare at Nana, speechless. She takes the empty container out of my nerveless fingers and tells me to keep the jelly beans. Devoid of options, I tell Piper to eat whatever she can reach and go about my business.

As I pack the groceries into the boot of my car some time later, the ridiculous wind blows the lid of the boot shut, onto the back of my head. The protruding hook on the lip of the boot, which latches into the ass-end of my car, stabs me with mother nature’s fury. THERE WAS BLOOD, people. Mother nature tried to kill me in the Aldi car park. I make it home, windblown but alive.

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As I unpack the groceries, a large bottle of cranberry juice leaps from my hands and explodes all over the floor. There is no option but to mop. None. I grab the steam mop, do my best, and then race down to Orion’s school for my weekly reading session with the kids. None of them notice my feverish expression, but are all impressed by Piper’s decision to attend the session disguised as Michaelangelo.

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WEDNESDAY
Piper wakes up at 2am and she is snotty. My bowl is still missing and the world is clearly out of alignment as a result. My head hurts, but I take Piper to dancing anyway, then off to the shops to buy the mother’s day presents. I have an epic low sugar episode in Cotton On and shot my raw sugar like a boss, in spite of my hands trembling so badly that I can barely find my own face. Piper is SO HUNGRY MUMMY the entire trip, until I cave and buy her maccas. This is really just an excuse for me to have loaded fries, because I have my period and I require ALL THE BACON and ALL THE FAKE CHEESE. It’s delicious, and completely warranted of all the capital letters I just used, because bacon makes everything better.

As I am picking up Orion from school, a fight breaks out between a few older students. Their parents stand around watching (say what? You heard me) and I drag Piper, Orion and his bff Riley out of the way whilst Riley’s most excellent Dad Glen puts on his Dad voice and breaks the scuffle up. The entire scene is bizarre and surreal.

THURSDAY
Piper wakes at 5.30am demanding medicine, lollies and to sleep in my bed. Tired, hormonal me knows this is a bad idea but, given she’s never, ever, EVER asked to sleep in my bed before and the breakfast-bowl karma is hunting me, I give in. I fetch her medicine and lollies, in that order, and then place her beside me in bed. She proceeds to put her fingers in my eyesandearsandmouthandnose until I crack the shits and roll over to face the other direction. She realises she’s done wrong and attempts to spoon me. I am won over by the cutest, tiniest spoon in the world and begin to thaw until she starts pulling my hair and kicking me in the butt. Conversation as follows:
“What are you doing?! You should be sleeping.”
“Your hair so pretty, mummy.”
“Thank you but it’s sleeping time.”
“I want breakfast, mummy.”
“It’s not breakfast time, it’s sleeping time!”
“I so hungry, mummy.”
Famine day two, apparently.

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The day continues. Mum visits, Glen and I report yesterday’s weird fight to the school, there’s tea, caramel slice and papercraft. Piper’s snottiness seems miraculously cured. We take Orion to his swimming lesson and he asks me to stand OUTSIDE the change room while he gets dressed. Say what? The day culminates in an epic showdown  between Orion and Piper over Super Mario 3d World, as Orion refuses to pop Piper’s bubble (literally) and she responds by screaming “pop my bubble” over and over until it blends into a cacophony of incoherent shrieking. I turn the games and the television off. There is RAGE. (not mine.) There are TEARS. (also not mine.) Then, as if someone has flicked a switch, they ask if they can help me cook the dinner. I… what? But there they are, washing their hands and lining up their stools by the bench, and happily co-operating over burritos and ground nutmeg. ‘Kay.

FRIDAY
At this point in time my sleep-deprived mind realises that unless I want Bruce Willis knocking on my door to delcare Armageddon in all his grease-stained glory, something needs to be done. My breakfast bowl needs to be returned to her rightful place, before it is too late. As a diabetic discworld fan I’m well acquainted with Death, but the rest of the Horsemen I can happily live without. (sorry guys, nothing personal.)

I send my friend a message asking if I can swing by and pick up my bowl on the way to Piper’s swimming lesson. She doesn’t answer, but I can’t take any more bizarre days, so I drop by anyway and knock on her door, smiling like a lunatic when she actually answers it. We compare crazy, whatthehellisgoingon weeks, and I GET MY BOWL AND SPOON BACK.

So there you have it. The equilibrium of the universe has been restored. You can all stop panicking and Bruce Willis can take a shower. The Four Horsemen can go back to playing chess or whatever else it is they do when they’re not gallavanting around the countryside infecting my child with random diseases, making her endlessly hungry (and throwing food at her that she can’t reach), trying to decapitate me with the boot of my own car and causing random fights to erupt outside Chemist Warehouse.

Although, to be fair, all that wind did dry my washing nicely. Silver lining, right?

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