I have a wonderful extract for you today as part of the blog tour for The Queen of New Beginnings by Therese Loreskar …
The Queen of New Beginnings
What was that? There’s a strange noise coming from downstairs. A burglar? Am I supposed to go downstairs and have a look?
It’s quiet now. I’ll check out that noise in a second. Just need a bit more of my beauty sleep before little-brother wakes up. If it’s a burglar he’ll have to wait; I am so tired!
Why isn’t my husband awake? Isn’t it the husband’s responsibility to wrestle with unknown burglars on the Persian carpet? I need to wake him up somehow.
If I gently poke my husband, maybe he won’t notice how he woke up. Perhaps he’ll just wake up and believe he did it on his own? Or rather, woken from the sounds from downstairs? That would suit me perfectly.
Let’s see…what can I poke him with? Using my fingers would be a bit too obvious… Oh right, there might be a hanger under the bed from the last time I cleaned out my wardrobe (which I never finished…of course). I just need to lean a little over the edge and I’ll be able to reach it.
Great! Just great. My husband’s finally awake, along with little-brother, middle-sister and big-brother. I’m sitting on the floor comforting my aching foot. I must have broken it! Or well, at least sprained it! And obviously the husband is not too happy having to care for the three wide-awake kids and a (badly!) injured wife.
And the noise from downstairs is still there!
05:10 I am, still sitting on the cold wooden floor. And I can’t move my foot, not even the slightest. I am definitely not at the top of my husband’s priority list. First he forced all the three children out from the bedroom into the living room and then I heard him swearing at the TV for not showing any cartoons at this early hour.
At last I could hear him heading downstairs. I guess the potential burglar had the same low priority as me, this early in the morning. But, wait! Obviously a bit higher priority than me and my aching foot because I am still sitting here without anyone helping me. Hmpf!
What on earth is my husband actually doing downstairs? I can’t hear anything? Not even the strange noise anymore. Has the burglar suddenly kidnapped my hubby? Big mistake! Not smart at all. There is no secret-hidden-family-fortune whatsoever. Worst case scenario I would never be able to cash him out. Poor burglar/potential kidnapper.
Splendid! My right leg has gone to sleep and the left one is still in severe pain. Where the bloody hell is my hubby? I have been waiting for ages! I know I might not be his first priority, but this is getting ridiculous!
Well, it turned out that all that was needed was a loud yell from me, and suddenly all four of them came running!
Apparently, my husband had fallen asleep on the sofa downstairs. What? The one to blame for the strange noises was the dog. He must have eaten something really inappropriate. Because he tried to unwind his stomach in a pair of wellies. Despite everything, I’m quite happy now. They tucked me down in the bed like a princess. And the foot is high up on a pillow. My hubby promised to take care of all the kids (and the dog’s) morning chores. Great!
Typical. Just typical! Why can’t I relax when I finally have the opportunity to? All I hear is the children arguing. What are they doing out there anyways? Rearranging the entire house?
Silence? It’s silent? Hello?
It appears I’m finally alone now. No children. No husband. No dog? Well, the dog has to be around doesn’t it? But if it is, it’s awfully quiet. Calm and quiet for sure, but how did the husband envision that I’d be able to get out of bed with a broken foot? Or perhaps not broken. Just strained. Or sprained. But nonetheless injured!
Maybe it wasn’t so bad that I injured my foot, an injury would actually be really great. I am finishing up today’s entries for the blog with some pictures of my injured foot. Just need to add lots of swelling to the picture before I upload it to the blog. I could sure use a lot of sympathy comments today. Lots of them. Coffee and the children’s left over candy from Saturday will suffice for breakfast. I’ll just need to google a picture of a healthy bowl of porridge that I can use for the blog. I can’t show the truth. Not when I’m running a health and fitness blog and I’m being paid (ridiculously much even) for my workout tips and healthy recipes.
Finally, today’s breakfast entry is completed. Super healthy flaxseed porridge, topped with fresh blueberries, along with a carrot and ginger juice. Everything nicely displayed on beautiful china. Not my china or my porridge, but still beautiful.
Thank God for all the random pictures on the web. How come no one notices that I eat my breakfast in different bowls every morning? Maybe I should stick to one colour theme at least? But who’d be bothered? I don’t.
I just finished the rest of the day’s blog entries by using the delayed publishing feature. Seriously, how did people blog before this was invented? Worked on their blog the whole day? Seriously?
My mother called. Half way through Emmerdale! Come on! Has she got no sense of decency? The program is airing the same time every day! How hard can it be to remember this?
She wanted to discuss dads’ upcoming birthday. Apparently they’ve booked the local pub. Big party. Like thousand relatives. For some reason she wanted me to help out with the invitations too. (Because I have so much spare time?) Hmpf.
Today’s second entry is online now. My swollen foot looks really bad in the picture. Almost looks like I’ve actually broken it.
I causally scroll through the comments to see if there are any new that interest me.
Yes! The first eighteen comments came within a minute. Peter: ”Poor you for injuring your foot. I’ve heard that squash is a gruesome
sport. Take it a bit gentler next time. Lots of cyber love to you today. Xxx”
A tingling sensation starts spreading through my body. Peter always comments on my blog entries, but unfortunately his signature leads to an abandoned blog. Which means I still don’t know who he is? But I sure love his comments!
And there it is; two hundred forty-five comments. I can’t be bothered to read them all. It’s soon time for the lunch entry. I’m actually feeling a bit nauseous after all the candy I munched on for breakfast. I think I need some real lunch now. Not just the fake-blog-one.
A nutritious spinach soup topped with half an egg and low fat quark is today’s lunch entry on the blog. Even the weight watchers would be proud of this lean lunch and laugh all the way to one of their meetings. Of course, in reality no-one would be full for any prolonged time after eating that for lunch. Maybe just full enough until the afternoon KitKat?
I called Rebecca. And now I am on my way to town for a pizza. Yummy! It’s so convenient that I can call single-career-Rebecca for a casual lunch without any prior notice.
Now I know everything about Rebecca’s wild weekend. I feel overwhelmed. I wonder how long time ago it was that I was out having a good time. Maybe three kids ago? I can’t even be bothered to recall my last night out. It’s that sad.
One calzone later and I feel like a never will have a pizza again. Ever!
Rebecca’s in the bathroom. A perfect opportunity to check the comments on the lunch entry. One hundred sixty-seven comments. I’m having a good day. Yay me! I think I’ll celebrate by shopping some new clothes. I need to hurry and find Peter’s comment before Rebecca gets back from the bathroom. Peter is not a good subject to talk about. She gets all upset and screams that he’s an obsessed stalker and other irrational things. And that I should take care of my own husband. Hmpf. Whether or not my husband is taking care of me, should actually be the question!
I can’t bring myself to ask that question out loud because Rebecca would only tell me how grateful I should be for being married and having children at our age. Don’t I understand how hard it is to be single and childless when you’re only getting older? All the good men are already taken! As if?
Peter: “What a delicious lunch you’re having. You inspire me so much. I’m having sausage and pasta today. Do you want to switch ☺ Maybe grab a lunch with me someday?”
F**K! He’s asking for a lunch! I’m married. Very married and not to forget a very important and sensible mother of three. And there comes my friend Rebecca. Do not mention Peter. Do not!
She’s finally stopped screaming and yelling at me. I just happened to slip out a little comment about Peter, and Rebecca demanded to read all the comments from the lunch entry. Of course she found the lunch invitation. Not good. Not good at all. I’ve patiently listened to her arguments for eleven minutes. To be precise.
Listened to how incredibly stupid it is to flirt with unknown men on the Internet. They can be as crazy as a box of frogs! And maybe Peter’s not even a man! But yes, I know that. I can’t say how I know it, I just do. And I also know that it wouldn’t be a good thing for my hubby if I ever met Peter.
As a worn down toddler mom, I would be no match for any unknown man from the web. Give me a compliment at this stage of my life and you’d have basically undressed me and put me in bed between your sheets!
I had to promise Rebecca that I would absolutely not reply to Peter’s comment. I promised. Crossing my fingers behind my back though. I need an exit strategy. An emergency exit just in case.
Hey, a little compliment never killed anyone, has it? My own husband seems to have forgotten that I’m an attractive woman. The real deal I think, or maybe I’m not anymore? Having all these children seems to have sucked away all of my self-confidence (and some breast and posture of course). I sound ridiculous. Obviously my husband desires me. Or does he?
Sometimes I shouldn’t be allowed to move around in society without a personal companion. I should have picked up the children before 4pm just like all the other proper suburban wives. Instead I enter the building at quarter past four completely out of breath. Fought with three stubborn children and managed to dress them in their jackets and shoes in a record-breaking-time.
Luckily it’s only October still. I wouldn’t have coped with overalls and gloves today. When we finally left the nursery and the teachers’ angry eyes stopped burning a hole in my back, I discover I brought the wrong car. No booster seats! Not even one. What the H**L?
16:55 I shouldn’t have done what I just did. I know that Maya’s mother saw us. I know I will hear about it as soon as she gets a chance. Not straight to my face though. No, they’re too subtle for that here in the suburbs. Instead, I will hear it soon enough from one of the other gossiping mums.
To my defence (if I need one?) I didn’t feel like walking 2.5 miles with tired children. And the whole car was full of shopping bags from my shopping spree with Rebecca. I just wanted to come home. So I took all the children and put them in the car. Without booster seats. Shoot me!
Yes, I think it might be capital punishment for such a severe felony, at least here in the suburbs. But if nothing else, the children are now at home and each one’s been placed in front of a screen.
I’m still thinking of Peter. I wonder what kind of man he is? Is he’s one of those men who will give his wife a compliment even after she’s delivered three babies? And to be honest, gotten slightly worn over the years too? It would be nice to be wanted, desired again. Maybe Peter can play that part? No, no, no! Go away stupid thoughts. I need to think of something else now.
So what kind of healthy food should I make for the children tonight? I’ve already written the dinner entry and it should appear online in four, no three minutes. I found a great picture of broccoli lasagne, with wholegrain pasta of course!
Where is the dog? Didn’t I get the dog back home from the dog-day-care? Or did I even leave him there this morning?
I asked the neighbour to look after him for a couple of hours today. I only planned for a quick lunch in town. Shit, shit, shit! How could I forget?
That was embarrassing!
Brought back a happy dog that’s running around in circles in the kitchen and licking up every crumb off the floor. The neighbour was really understanding when I told her how my mother accidently had been admitted to the hospital this afternoon.
And she truly understood when I told her that I couldn’t call her when my mother was-almost-dying. She believed it. I was so convincing I almost did too!
If I hadn’t talked to my mother earlier today, I almost got an urge to call her and see how she was doing myself. Make sure she wasn’t dying for real or so?
I’m really late with dinner because of the dog incident now. Just sent off three children to keep watching something. Can anyone believe they wanted to play with me instead of continuing to watch a screen? Three very hungry children I might add. I managed to bribe them with some raisins and dried apple pieces, so that saved me some time to prepare dinner.
Now I just need to cook something. Hubby is coming home in ten minutes. Exactly what can I cook up in that amount of time?
17:08 Peter: “Wow, yet another healthy meal, how does broccoli in lasagne taste?”
Oh, that tingling feeling through my body again. Like there are hundreds of butterflies flying around in my lower parts. I really have to reply to his comment. Good thing we have this laptop in the kitchen. Just look how much a little compliment can do to lift the mood. At least my mood. Not sure if it’s doing anything for the rest of the families’ mood though?
There, replied to Peter’s comment along with seventeen others. Sometimes I have to reply to keep the blog alive. A very important job, let’s not forget that. So, let’s see. Yes, cook some dinner.
Just sent off three hungry children, a whining dog and a stressed husband to the bathroom. The dinner isn’t even half-done. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to cook? Of course I didn’t tell my husband that! I asked him if he could bathe the children so I could get an extra eight minutes to prepare the meal.
That wasn’t so difficult. Milk and cereal is on the table and I have roughly six more minutes to read the comments on my blog.
Finally in bed. With the laptop of course. Just casually scrolling through some other blogs. I can’t really stand the blogosphere anymore. Honestly. But as long as the money keeps coming, I will play this game. And play it well. Health and fitness blog? Who am I kidding? All the readers of course. But not myself. I’m not fit. If I was I wouldn’t be lying here in bed watching old re-runs and eat cold microwaved popcorn.
Hubby’s at his tennis practice tonight. He was in a bad mood when he left and will probably be coming back in a bad mood too. Well, having milk and cereal for dinner isn’t that bad is it?
At least the children are sleeping now. Despite having their bellies full of potentially non-government-recommended-daily-intakes-of-vitamins-and-nutritious food. Jeez, you’d think people would understand that you get drained being constantly connected and online. Running a blog happens to be a real job, you know.
Isn’t his tennis lesson on Tuesdays by the way? Today is Monday right? Are we drifting away from each other so fast that I can’t even remember things like that? Never mind, it’s calm and quiet at home now. I think I’m going to sneak down to the kitchen and make another bag of popcorn. Full of 80% fibre if I remember the article from last week’s papers correctly. Who would have guessed that popcorn is actually considered healthy?
Has that whet your appetite?! Thought so … go and grab your copy now!
Be sure to follow the rest of the tour too folks!