*N.B. To clarify, I have not won the Lotto, or even bought a ticket yet. This did not stop me from having a good long daydream about what we would buy with the money and then being overcome with a sense of immense guilt that top of my list would be a nice big house in the country – or to build a house Grand Designs-style. This was followed by a further sense of panic and unease about the fact that I would have to give at least half to charity, but which charity? Would it be ethical to bypass the big ones in favour of smaller local charities? I would have to set up a think tank to see how the money could do the most good. Then further sense of overwhelming despair at the thought that £15 million (ish – after tax) would do practically nothing to solve the world’s problems anyway but then you really couldn’t keep the whole lot as that would make you a selfish arse.*
Needless to say, practically all of my day’s allotment of brain space was taken up by absolute shite. Notwithstanding my very valiant attempts to be in the moment and play with baby L (who now is toddling like crazy, into everything, and screams at the precise moment when things stop being to his liking. Things today he has taken offense to are: being in the car seat; not being allowed chocolate-covered Brazil nuts; not being allowed to maul the dog; being left in his cot while I take a wee (so he is safe and doesn’t fall down the stairs!); me having a biscuit without allowing him one (I was not in the mood to forgo biscuits today so unfortunately I now have a biscuit-addicted baby and M and I sat on the stairs eating chocolate-covered Brazil nuts in secret when we got back from drama club). I do remember the smile on L’s face as he toddled maniacally towards me at the indoor play centre, absolutely certain that I would catch him as he launched himself towards me (there comes a point where he just gives up on walking and falls forward for me to catch him). The other night he was standing at his play table and launched himself backwards in a perfect arc, without even looking to see if I was behind him. He giggled when I caught him – now that’s trust for you. (Incidentally, this is the same exact arc he makes with his body to avoid being strapped into the car seat).
I will now try to finish the evening by winding down somewhat and remembering the real moments of the day (not the houses we are not buying and hypothetical discussions about the ethics of winning the lottery!)
Now for that glass of wine (come on, it is practically still Christmas, and those bottles of wine we got as Christmas presents aren’t going to drink themselves…)