This morning Miss Q and I woke up around 4am for our usual ‘what are you crying now for, it’s not time for a feed, please go back to sleep, mama doesn’t want to start the day yet’ wrestle, which I’m pleased to say that today I won.
But then, things went according to plan.
We got up at 7am - a whole hour later than usual, but something I hope for each morning anyway.
Then Gregory (who had to work yesterday on his day off) got up and helped me get Q fed and dressed.
Not because he is a lazy husband who thinks the raising of the child is entirely a woman’s duty, but because after working 6 looooong days I thought he might take the opportunity to have a bit of a lie in.
Then Q and I ventured out in peak hour traffic to pick up a friend who needed a chauffer. Miss Q and I were on time.
We made it to our destination unscathed, early and without getting lost on the way.
Unheard of unexpected.
Next I received a text message from my little brother saying that our injured friend is back in town.
So unexpected I yelped and nearly woke up Miss Q who was sleeping in the backseat of the car – also somewhat unexpected.
My brother didn’t know many details about our friend as it is all a bit secret squirrel in their neck of the woods, so I took a punt on where he would be and set off with Miss Q to find him.
I arrived at the hospital in record time without getting lost and found a parking space around the corner.
See the kind of day I was having?
Gently (and regrettably) I woke up my child, as she was my secret weapon.
I was hoping Miss Q could cut through the wads of red tape and the ‘we aren’t at liberty to disclose that information’ talk, but as it turned out, everybody was entirely helpful (it does help to have a cute human on your hip I suspect) and after a few false starts (and one guy saying ‘you know I can’t tell you that ma’am’) I found him in a secret ward that I’m not at liberty to disclose to you people over the internet.
And I am here to report that he looks bloody fantastic.
Though I think he must have been knocked in the head, not shot in the neck because all he was wearing was a pair of shorts and some filthy, old thongs. (That’s flip-flops for you Americans, not undies. I don’t know if he was wearing any of those to be honest and that’s just the way it’s going to stay).
We had a bit of a chat, Miss Q sat on his bed and charmed all the staff with her pterodactyl noise and then we zoomed off because we were going to be late to pick up our friend and also because Miss Q had soiled her nappy and I’d left a change in the car.
Unexpected because I’m a perfect mother and never forget anything.
The rest of the day continued in unexpected bliss. Miss Q took another nap in the car, so instead of bringing her inside, we sat in the car and I too had myself a little siesta. So unexpected I can't even tell you. Some would argue I'm wound too tight to enjoy a nap. But that's a debate for another blog entirely.
Then, as the sun was setting over the Anzac Bridge, I laced up my runners and took myself for a run – sans Q.
It was fabulous. I felt like Chariots of Fire.
Don’t get me wrong; I love pushing her 10 kilogram arse for 7 kilometres up hill and down dale, it's like pushing a shopping trolley filled with Christmas goodies around a car park. Zero ability to steer and leaning back so far my bum is back where I started.
And lastly, in this unexpected day, I made the ANZAC biscuits I so very nearly missed out on making for my friend at all.
Of course, I didn’t have the correct ingredients (who knew baking soda and baking powder were actually different things) but in typical enthusiasm for ideas beyond my abilities, I gave it a go anyway.
They’re not as good as my grandmas, but that's ok, they were never going to come close.