The calm. No, not before a storm. Just the calm.

I'm sitting here, the glow of the computer one of only two lights in the dark living room. I'm wearing black tights and oversized tshirt, a leftover outfit from my work day. Hair in a messy top knot. A sort of half-dressed lazy ballerina. The lights across the river by our balcony glow through the windows. Everything is silent. She's asleep upstairs, very soundly. He's out catching up with old friends over a few beers.

And I'm right here. Like the sentry of some modern fort, standing guard. Keeping everyone safe. Absorbing the silence.

Tonight I indulged a bit in the past, and a bit of the present. After I put her to bed and gave her that kiss that sends her to a giggly sleep, I padded down the stairs slowly. But I stopped when I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror. I walked a bit closer. I don't "do" makeup, and for work it's always moisturizer and lipgloss, so I never really examine myself, because I never have time to, at 6:30am (I'm usually more concerned about leaving the house in pyjama bottoms by mistake). But this time, I did. Just one minute, I told myself.

I spent what felt like an eternity looking at myself, seeing the lines in the corners of my eyes, the perma-freckle sat like a star on my right cheek, the colour of my eyes (a faded hazel-green.. which my daughter ended up inheriting), the shade of my hair (a wavy oaky-brown with faded highlights and some grey hairs showing through), the scar on my forehead (the result of a horrific dog-bite when I was 4 that left me with 12 stitches). My face has changed so much, I noticed. More lines. Thinner skin. More freckles.

I stepped back a bit, like a painter does when he's working. And that's when I saw the whole story. My story. My lines, my scars, my body with its square-like structure and flat little chest.... those are the chapters to my story. And sometimes I feel like it's barely begun to unfold, you know? And that makes me smile.

Sure, I'm unhappy with a few parts here and there. I desperately need a haircut, but I haven't had time. I probably need to rest more instead of trying to do too much. My posture could be better. Seems like yesterday that I was 25 and didn't give a shit about anything and everything, thinking that I had millions of years left on this planet. And here I am, with a birthday looming and parts of me creaking.

But the thing is, after I saw my reflection, I actually saw what I looked like. You know that fairy tale where the boy wants to find the magic mirror that lets him see himself as others see him? That's what I feel like I saw today. I indulged in a moment of complete agreement with the usually opposing sides. Nothing seemed out of place. Everything seemed to fit. I made sense to myself.

Sure, I liked who I was when I was 25, but I love who I've become, so many years later.

Driving me insane

We were away for a much-needed break. Which flies defiantly in the face of my previous post, thinking I didn't need one. But oh man did I.

My parents, being now retired, are looking to travel more, so we met them at a rented villa in the mountains. With a pool. It was bliss (well, for me anyway. My poor other half was glued to his laptop or phone for his business the entire time. But hey, at least we managed to see eachother poolside now and again.).

Bliss, however, only began after the first couple days. Why? A hilarious (yes, I'm kidding) turn of events that was a result of the common illness "IKnowHowToGetThereandDon'tNeedInstructions-Itis". What's even more surprising is that I wasn't the one driving.

Oh yes, audience, this was HIS mistake.

[sits down with a bowl of popcorn and begins the story]

We landed at 12pm. We got the rental car. We were already prepared that the villa was about 3 hours away. I was armed with snacks for all of us, I had toys and books for the 10 month old little person in the back. All was good. We got in the car at 1pm, preparing to drive.

Me: "The villa pack says not to use the GPS because it'll take us a really weird way, and to use the main roads/highway signs."

Him: "Nah, we rented a GPS, we'll use it. What's the address of the house?"

Me: "We don't have it, but we have the area, so it says to drive to the area, and then use the villa pack to get to the actual house."

Him: "Too complicated. We'll use the GPS. I'll just put in the town name."

Me: "Umm... what if there are 10 towns of the same name?"

Him: "Nah, we'll be fine."

Me: "Okay." [silently prays for some other-worldly guidance]

Three and a half hours later... 4:30pm...

Him: "Uh, I'm going to pull over for a sec."

Me: "Oh my god. What? Why? Are we lost?"

Him: "Just let me check... Umm.... okay, here's the thing..."

[I get out of the car and slam the door]

Me: "Are you f*cking kidding me?! We're lost? How far? Are you kidding? We have a whining baby in the back strapped into an uncomfortable chair, we're in the middle of nowhere... how did this happen?!?"

Him: "We went in the wrong direction. Towards the Alps, to be exact. I put in the wrong town in the GPS. We have to drive back the same way. I'm so sorry. We'll probably get there closer to 8pm now."

Me: "Right. GPS. Yeah. I remember that one. Fine. We'll just have to stop at some petrol stations along the way to give the little one a break and feed her dinner."

...8:30pm...

Him: "Ummm....."

Me: "Don't. Even. Begin."

Him: "I know, I know. It's just that navigating these winding roads tired and stressed is doing my head in. I have to pull over and look at the map again."

[baby starts whining in the backseat, bored and tired]

Me: *&&&^£%"%^&&!!!!?"*£"*^% You *(&"£&^"% ridiculous (&*"*£"&%^ Why don't we just get a hotel room somewhere and forget it and continue tomorrow."

Him: "Where do you see anything open now, in the hills? I think we should just do it. We can make it. We just have to keep navigating these roads, but at least we're going in the right direction."

Me: [teeth gritted] Fine. Just. Keep. F*cking. Driving.

Him: "I'm so sorry. Please please say something positive, even though you're angry."

Me: [death stare]


12 hours later...1 am....

[pulls into drive of house]

Him: "We're finally..."

Me: "I'm going to bed. Don't even think about talking to me right now."



[end scene]