While I was at basketball this afternoon, Matthew did some painting. He did a painting for Aunty Sandy. Then he did a painting for Uncle Darren. Debbie asked him what that painting was about. He said, "a tired grown-up". Which is kind of perceptive for a three year old. Then he did a painting for his friend Jasper. I just stood there totally amazed when Debbie told me what he said that painting was about. He told her, "the joy of life".
I still can't believe it. A three year old, and he's done a painting (all yellow and blue splotches!) about the joy of life!
The movie (video) I watched last night was called Love and Basketball. It's very very nice, and exactly what it says, a movie about love and basketball.
A fight yesterday - one of a number this weekend. It's stress, and illness and mid-winter rainy blues. Deb's exhausted from fighting morning sickness and the flu. I'm stressed and exhausted from having too much work on - getting to bed on Thursday night at 2.30am is not a good thing. And Matthew was stir-crazy from being inside all weekend.
So the fight. I don't even know what triggered it off. Yes I do. I'd popped in here to check my e-mail or something. Deb came in and said she was just sick of the life we're leading - every weekend it's work, and someone being sick, and basketball. It was the last comment, the one about baskebtall that set me off. I finally stormed into the living room about 20 minutes later and told her that one day I was just going to get so tired from fighting her for time to play basketball that I'd just give up. And she'd come to regret that because something inside of me would die and not be replaced.
She started crying and worked herself up into such a state she threw up all over the kitchen floor. Which was about the time my anger dissolved, melted away in a wave of love as I stroked her back as she threw up some more in the toilet.
They don't tell you this is what love is. Living together and working through things. Feeling a lack of space and wanting to cuddle up so tight at night. Harsh biting words and cleaning up vomit from the floor. And staying together because you know this is the best thing you've ever done.
Matthew knows what love is. But it's a finite quantity for him. You can love someone, and they can love you, but that rules anyone else out of the equation. Matthew loves Mummy and that means Daddy can't love Mummy also. Daddy can't love Matthew because Matthew loves Mummy! Of course he may be young in the ways of love, but he's not stupid. Matthew loves Mummy or Daddy in a very positive correlation to who can benefit him most at the time - preferably with treats!
That's the love part. We had a great weekend basketball-wise. We had a double-header, a game on Saturday and a game on Sunday. The first game we won by default, so took the chance to have a team practice. Which is a bigger deal than it sounds. It was the first time since the start of the season I've been able to run a practice with the full team present! Today was wonderful. We played a team that had previously beaten us by two points and one point. We kicked their ass. The technical term is a dicking. They scored 11 points in the first half and 16 in the second. We finally played a whole game like we're capable of. I'm feeling good leading into the final four games of the season before the play-offs. I think we're a clear fourth in the league with the top four playing in the semi-finals. We've just beaten the second placed team and play the third placed team next week. It's a game we're targeting to win.
The only downside, and it may be a serious one, is I'm sitting here with my left knee swollen up the size of a grapefruit. I got a bang on it during the game, and it's pretty sore and stiff. I'll go and see a doctor tomorrow. I'm hoping it's not too serious!
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Gnotella
I've finally discovered the joys of downloading mp3 files of obscure songs and artists!
Journals and blogs that I read regularly
Raising Hell
Feral Living
Hippycritical
Udder
My Life in 12 Point Font
Journal of a Writing Man
Some Jingle Jangle Morning
The Last Girl Scout
Potatoe.com
Journallife.com
Window to my Soul
Chickybabe
Sorabji.com
Yesterday's Makeup
Fifteen Milliliters
Fly Away
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Photo of tunnel copyright Bernd Klumpp, available from istockphoto.com