Ari was probably quite overtired because he struggled to settle down despite my best renditions of Twinkle, twinkle little star, and the Rainbow song. I thought about "letting it go", but knew we had a big afternoon coming up with Luey's dance concert (the epic trip to Richmond in 32 degree heat, alone, would be trying on all of us), so I persisted and eventually his eyelids started drooping.
Suddenly, there was a loud banging on the front screen door. I thought it was quite loud for the Nutrimetics lady, but figured she must be in a hurry to get to her sister's place. After asking Ari to wait in bed, I answered the door, and there was an older man standing there. For a second I thought perhaps the Nutrimetics lady had sent her husband in her place, but then I realised it was actually my dad!
Dad has a tendency to visit with not notice. He lives just over the border and has a friend who lives in Melbourne and is a quadriplegic after a terrible car accidents just three weeks before Ari was born. He visits his mate about once a month, but only pops in to see us once or twice a year at most (before his mate moved to Melbourne there had been up to five year spells between visits).
It's always as if we just saw him last week. He comes in, has a hot drink, a chat, and he used to have a smoke or two on the porch, but he's quit smoking again. Then he leaves. This time was no different. Except, like about this time last year, at some point during the conversation, we were talking about cutting the grass in the back yard and he suggested we buy a whipper snipper (because it's so long - I'd asked him if he didn't have a ride on mower), and he pulled out a wad of fifties bound together with a rubber band. He'd obviously planned to gift us this money before he came around. "For you guys and the kids for Christmas." He said.
He has no idea what that money means to us.
So, once again, just when things were looking impossibly tight (and we didn't want to ask MIL yet again for help), someone comes to the rescue. We've had help from all our parents this year, and it's humbling, but it's also heartwarming!
After Dad left, we headed out to the dance concert. We thought we were going to miss it because the public bus system was not playing nice, but we got there in time, and before many others. The "concert" was nothing like how we imagined. It was very casual, more like a Christmas party for friends with kids occasionally performing a dance, and in between playing various games (like statues and the limbo - which Luey won!). It was hot and steamy, but reminded me a bit of the community Christmas parties we used to have in Iceland. I also got to swap numbers with a mum from the dance class in case our kids both do the same class again next year. That was nice.
On the way home we stopped at Richmond station for a drink and then at Box Hill for some Maccas, and it was just a nice family outing - something that doesn't happen often enough!
On Sunday, Dave took Bryn to a friend's party, and I cleaned up some areas of the house that had been bugging me for a while. That's when my thesis draft arrived. From my last blog post, you can probably tell, I lost my "let it go" attitude for a while yesterday, but by evening, I decided to get back on track. I have probably been a bit too naive about my abilities. In my family we call this my "Silent Night syndrome". That refers to the time when I was nine and told my teacher I could play Silent Night on the piano for the school Christmas pageant. By "play" I actually meant I could plink out the melody, slowly, with one finger, sort of... I have had a tendency to over-estimate my own ability many times.
So, this morning I went to library for a look-see, and after that I did a bunch of other errands. Tomorrow I'll get back into the editing job ahead of me. I'm not setting any deadlines any more. Que sera sera.