A strange day

Perhaps the death of Grievous set the tone for the day but I have a tremendous sense of a lack of achievement so hopefully writing this will focus my mind.

The kids went to Enda's today with Ant asking me what I planned to do with my day. I had no idea but there was a vague suggestion of organising something. After breakfast I spent time blog hopping but eventually aimed for the playroom, to cuddle Yoda and empty a shelf or two.

I did fill a bin bag and a box for the charity shop but I felt I had made more mess than when I started. I did manage to get my sewing stuff into one place, though not in any order. That will come later. The trouble was I was sorting out the shelves that had teaching stuff on it. Now, admittedly, some of it was very old and outdated but I still felt odd adding stuff to the discard pile. I felt I was resigning myself to a lack of identity. I have no problem with my role as mum but it feels strange to be ridding myself of the trappings of my profession. I don't know whether to keep what seems to be the most important files just in case I need them when/if I choose to teach again or be totally ruthless with myself and assume the NZ system has no need of British resources.

I also managed to get all our NZ documents in one place so that says something!

We took a group trip to see the Simpson movie. It was, as expected, just a longer episode with fewer jokes but the boys ( 8 year olds) loved it.

The rat had a very formal funeral service, once we had got over the trauma of trying to dig a hole big enough to take the box. Roots and rocks made life difficult. We said a few words over the 'site' and Caitlin left a flower to mark the spot.

I also put my wedding dress on eBay. There must be major psychological value in that.

So you see it seems that I have achieved somethings today just lots of little things. My mind seems to be in one of its wandering modes. If I don't focus, or if I try to handle jobs ( like the playroom) with lots of potential, I can get overwhelmed and meltdown. Making sure I only tidied the room for one hour and filled one bag of crap meant I had an end point. But I had to make myself stop. The Simpsons trip helped with that.