Bathroom Dreams and Burnout Schemes

In which things might be falling apart, but the trajectory is upward, and that's what matters

Comrades, it’s been a while, and I know I’ve been neglecting my small domestic-comedy corner of the internet, but motherhood has been something of a weighted blanket lately. I find I don’t have the bandwidth for much else

Yesterday, I crept out of bed at 5.30, still sporting the headache I took to bed the night before, so I could try and get some words in on the novel.  It was chilly but the heater wouldn’t turn on. When Keith crept out, I asked him to add ‘fix heater’ to his long list that already currently contains ‘fix retaining wall’, ‘fix caravan’, ‘fix oven’, ‘fix car’, and ‘fix toilet’. (There’s an argument for marrying an engineer. And maybe a stronger one for living only out of a backpack.)

It's a bit Whack a Mole at the moment. One of the children is unwell and taking lots of looking after (‘fix child’) so the 3am insomnia agenda is quite full. My hip is giving me curry, so I’m trying to take it for it’s stupid daily walk and stretch (‘fix hip’). 

So! What’s the best plan when life is feeling a little overwhelming? Why not… cut a hole in the middle of the house and launch into the bathroom reno you’ve dreamed of for seventeen years?

We have only the one bathroom in this house, so the builder is rigging us up an outdoor shower (bracing!). The Portaloo arrived yesterday. Today I’m taking my bestie Jen on a hectic drive all over Sydney picking up taps and sinks and cupboards. (Like Ben Law said after his recent reno: ‘Marketplace has become my entire personality.’ )

I’ve done my best to clear out the calendar, plan for inconvenience and focus my brain on what’s important. I had a chat with twelve year old. We have to orient our minds towards comedy, G, I said. It’s going to be a bit annoying, but the next two months will give us stories to laugh about for the rest of our lives as the family shits in a bucket and showers outside your bedroom window! How we shall laugh, I said, my eyelid twitching. She was suspicious, as she often is of things I tell her are ‘character building’.

But! In a short blink I shall have my dream: a little room in our little house that contains just a bath and a sink and a heated towel rack (the luxury!) The sink and tub are mint green and identical to the set my grandma (Little Nanna) had in her house. I rescued them, many months ago, from a nearby house where they had been installed in 1951. I found antique brass ‘telephone’ style bath taps on Etsy and I plan to paint this little space in a marbled peachy Porters French Wash. Previously, the bathroom was Grand Central Station, but now we are filling in a wall so that the other room houses the toilet, an emerald green shower and the laundry, making the little bathtub room into a stand-alone space.

This long-planned project, impossible to reschedule, has been a long time coming. The green sink has been my fruit bowl for a year while the bathtub has languished under a tarp outside the teenagers caravan. Because the universe is a comedian, the pieces have all come together for the job to start just as the health crisis at home has forced my schedule and attention to pivot.

But when are things ever different as a parent, when your job is to act as a minder to small humans whose developing lives consistently shift and change? How do you make God laugh, says the old saying? Make a plan. And also maybe tell him the one about the nun at the Pearly Gates.

I’ve been thinking about the idea of trajectory rather than situation, process rather than outcome, patterns rather than events. Great moments in life never turn out as you expect, and demons and angels are always jump-scaring from around a corner. Am I pointing my compass in the right direction, I try to ask myself. Is the trajectory following a general path I would wish, even if it wobbles and wavers in the moment? Then all is well.

If I’m feeling overwhelmed over the next few weeks, I’ll dream about that first bath in my tub, cracking the spine of a fresh book while steam rises fragrant with Jo Malone’s Lime, Basil and Mandarin bath oil, a Mother’s Day present I’m saving for just this moment.

In the meantime, I’ll focus on raising the tone of the neighbourhood.

Watching/Reading/Listening

I’m mid-intense rewatch of The Real Housewives of New York. With headphones on and my laptop connected to the big monitor, I clean and cook and sort laundry while Bethany and Dorinda and Tinsley fight and cackle and throw each other in the pool. I make no apologies.

Keith and I loved the Wallis Simpson 3-part doco on SBS recently. Lots of very posh commentary: hilarious.

The whole family is in a Community rewatch (Disney +) It’s one of our great loves, and only gets funnier.

Cooked family fave The Stew last night. SO delicious.

12 y/old and I read The Reappearance of Rachel Price. Twisty, plotty fun: recommended for a parent child book club.

15 y/old and I are reading out loud The History of Ancient China - last night, it was cold, we snuggled up and they read me to sleep. Core memory. :)

Absolutely loved Bri Lee’s The Work . What a fabulous ride.

Reading lots on burnout. Recommendations received gratefully!