Sunday, 3 February 2013
A carrot for courage
We pulled the first carrots before I left. The boys would happily eat a raw one for breakfast every day. They were so excited about harvesting their own that by the time I got home they had pulled every single carrot out of the ground - including the plant I was leaving for seed and the tender seedlings yet to flesh out their tuberous roots. I am told they trooped back inside terribly proud of their harvest, and there are now enough orange and purple heirloom plants in the bottom of the fridge to pad out their lunchboxes for the first week of school at least.
We eat breakfast on the front verandah most days, watching the horses and kangaroos in the paddocks across the road and waving to the morning dog walkers as they stroll past. Our mornings will not be quite as leisurely with two little ones to now get ready for school, but those ten minutes of stillness while we sit with our bowls of cereal leave me ready to face the day.
The backpacks sit washed and ready next to piles of new and neatly labeled stationery. Sourdough sandwich loaves are rising on the benchtop and the fruit bowl and muffin tin are full. We shall eat a carrot for courage in the morning and then head out into the new school year. And while I anticipate another term of settling into the school routine - it always takes that long for my boys to feel comfortable in their new classes, I have found - I intend to soak up these last few weeks alone with my baby boy. For he will soon seem so terribly big, I know.