If you a regular reader of this humble blog you may have noticed two overarching themes. The first is that I have a juvenile preoccupation with hawt actors which is most unbecoming of a woman of my age. The second is that I am tired. What’s worse is, not only do I feel tired, I look tired! The bags under my eyes are destined to hit my navel before my boobs (such that they are) do. I know you all get that wrangling small ones, working part time and managing a house with five bathrooms is not a recipe for relaxation but I do feel churlish complaining. Afterall so many people are working much harder, without family support and doing it with aplomb. Dadabulous is always home to help with the evening routine and I’m getting a full nights sleep. I have no god given right to be this exhausted. Yet if I dared let my head rest upon the keyboard right now I’d be asleep within minutes. Its 4.30pm and I’m on to my fifth cup of tea!
Why is it that when your youngest child drops their day sleep you feel compelled to pick it up? One afternoon last week, I had errands to run and kids birthday presents to buy but was simply not up to these menial tasks. I hit the wall at 3.00pm. I dumped a basket of laundry on my bed and collapsed on top of it without so much as bothering to remove my shoes. The washing pile was deconstructed in much the same manner as Kenneth Branagh would a Shakespearean role ( by lying on it).
Sadly for me, as I attempted to luxuriate in a sea of pink undies, T-shirts and white school socks, it was a case of nappus interuptus. Every 5 minutes the girls would leave their post in front of You Tube to nag me for food, drink or a new video. It hardly made for a restful experience. I may as well have done the housework.
The solution, as I see it, is to institute the Spanish siesta model. In Mumabs land – my fantasy utopia, a Nanna nap between 2 and 4pm would be mandatory for everyone. . The system is afterall working splendidly for the Spanish. Sure their economy is royally screwed but the population looks like this.
and the entire nation gets to smash tapas and sangria every afternoon.
If that’s not enticement enough for you, they have been known to borrow from the French and conduct menage a trois with Scarlett Johannsen. ( Perhaps that’s only in the kinky imaginings of Woody Allen?)
Undoubtedly this would excite my husband (and everybody elses ) but in Mumabs land we’ll swap Penelope and Scarlett for me and Antonio Banderas. Javier Baredem can stay.
The Spanish also use this daily sojourn to harness their creativity. Hence we get the surrealist movement and stuff like this.
This work is particularly resonate as it graphically describes my current relationship to being on time as well as my feelings towards my face. Thank you Mr Dali. Its like you’ve penetrated my soul with your intensely quizzical gaze.
So there you have it. The siesta. It’ll make us more attractive, more creative and more open to suggestion (particularly if the suggestion comes from Javier). More importantly a daily nap will help elevate my eye bags back to their natural position ie immediately under my eyes instead of on the floor. Are you in? Do you need a Nanna nap?
* Not only did I see the Shakespearean screen adaptation – Much Ado About Nothing, I saw it at the now defunct Mandolin cinema which was quite the art house venue in its day. That makes me a card carrying intellectual right? As for Kenneth Branagh – he’s 52 making him age appropriate crumpet. He’s matured rather nicely methinks. Kenny was married to Emma Thompson before moving through Helena Bonham Carter to the art director Lindsay Brunnock . Geez – and some people think the Aussie Mummy Blogging scene is a circle jerk. Its a little known fact that whenever these British show biz types get together for red carpet event they keep a contingent of proctologists on standby lest they need surgical extraction from each others proverbials.
For those of you who are not on board with middle aged crumpet as a concept here’s Jake G. Who says you can’t please all the people all the time?