Showing posts with label bad days. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad days. Show all posts

Wednesday, 25 August 2010

Sometimes Mothering is harder than hard

I have a neighbour, yes we all have them, but I have one who manages to make me feel terrible with just a single glance and a turn of phrase.  She is always beautifully turned out, drives a brand new sports car, runs her own successful business,  has a hot tub in the garden and one perfectly dressed nine year old boy who in her eyes can do no wrong.

So this morning when I am screaming at the boys like a fishwife to get in the car or we will be late, hollering my lungs out to leave the drink at home and just get in the car, who would it be that walks past.  Yes you guest it the PP neighbour (practical perfect) and she says "I see you are having issues with the boys again".

I didn't know how to respond to that so I just mumbled something about having to be somewhere and get the boys strapped in the car, but it stings, it really does.
The thing is she is right and the truth hurts, I have gone back to the screaming banshee I was before we underwent the trying to give shouting up for lent and I am ashamed.   We all seem to be shouting to be heard, I shout, therefore, the boys shout and I feel the need to shout loudest, it is a contest and it shouldn't be.

I have a temper, a really bad temper and it bubbles up inside until it explodes with a vengeance and I am tired.  Mini wasn't well yesterday and it meant that we had to cancel plans and spend the day in the house and the boys don't do well without their exercise.  But in truth this is an excuse, there is nothing I can say, I shouldn't be dragging myself down the boys level.

This morning things went from bad to worse, Mini had taken a drink in the car with him, which went everywhere as I drove round a corner far too fast (blackcurrant oh joy) and I started shouting again.  

I am really struggling to hold it together, to be the mother I want to be and should be.  I miss Mr Smudge desperately, I see him everywhere around the house, a carrier, a cushion on the sofa.  I am trying to do the best I can on very little money, even less sleep and be there for my mum too and life is hard.  

I am still waiting for the results to my test on the 7 July and have received nothing but excuses from the hospital as to why I haven't had them - The consultant is on holiday, the radiographer is on holiday, we haven't received the report from the radiographer, the file is on the consultants desk, his secretary is on holiday.  They are sick of me, I rang up this morning and have cried at the cover secretary.  I am tired, tired of all the waiting, the not knowing, the health issues I have to live with on a day to day basis.
Please don't think this post is a cry for attention, as I don't do that.  I am not looking for sympathy, I just wanted to get it all out and to try and writing does that for me. 


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Tuesday, 13 July 2010

Bringing out the Lioness in me

Just don't go upsetting my cubs in front of me, as it will bring out the lioness in me.  She has surfaced this week and I am still upset and angry about how my boys, Mini in particular has been treated.


Every Monday there is a youth group at the local church and although I don't attend church, I want the boys to have experience of church and the fact that this is help in the church itself, rather than a hall really appealed to me, in such that it demystifies such a quiet place.

So I registered the boys and they went for the first time a fortnight ago.  They had a great time, I collected them, no one said anything to me, apart from the fact that it wasn't on last week.  

So we got all ready to go this week, after taking Maxi to the doctors.  We arrived and I apologised for being slightly late (the GP ran over, nothing unusual there) and the boys went to play with their friends, when a lady stopped Mini and told him, he wasn't allowed to stay.

She brought him to me and told me he was too young and they went insured, but there are other four year olds attending, so I questioned her and said how could mini be too young and the others aren't?  She then went on to say that it is a health and safety issue and he asked for help in wiping his bottom.  At this point he burst in to tears.  Now he doesn't ask for help at school and yes occasionally at home he will ask for us to "check" his bottom (to be fait Maci does now and again too), so I said that it was possibly down to him being in a new environment.  To which she responded "we don't want him here and I have spoke to the Vicar".  I asked her why she hadn't telephoned me prior to our coming and that this wasn't an appropriate conversation to have in front of everyone, but she wouldn't budge.  She was happy for Maxi to stay, but not Mini.

So I took both boys home with me and it then took me an hour to calm Mini down.  All the time Maxi was telling him he would help wipe his bottom if that was all that stopped them from going.  Mini wanted to know why they don't want him, what has he done wrong, don't they like him?  I managed to hold it together until MadDad got in and then that was that I was in tears telling him what happened.

I couldn't find the Vicars number to discuss this with her, I was far too angry to go back and talk to the Youth group organiser, in fact I am still so upset about the way this has been handled.

I managed to speak to the Vicar last night and expressed my concerns over the way it has been handled and the inequality of it all, but I am waiting for her to come back to me.

And I am stewing, yes Mini is hard work, yes he can be challenging, loud, he doesn't always listen, he can be cheeky, insubordinate,  naughty, downright infuriating at times, but is this the reason that they don't want him there?  What have I done wrong?  He does come across as boisterous, but he is also loving, fun and a joy to be with.  I can not believe that they have made their decision based on one session with them.  It breaks my heart and I don't want Maxi to go without Mini and truth be told, neither of them understand what the problem is.
The longer it takes the Vicar to ring me back the more I think about it and reflect on the even, they are better ways to do this, without upsetting me and my children.



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Wednesday, 9 June 2010

drowning

I am struggling at the moment, to find my get up and go, yes as per all the cliches it has got up and gone.

I had blood tests last week and I am already anemic again, my lips are splitting at the sides and the junior doctor who discharged me after my last transfusion didn't order the additional tests I needed, which means I still don't have a date for further investigations.

But my blood results showed that it is unlikely I have pernicious anemia as my B12 level was still up thanks too the injection I had received. 

I feel like sitting and crying, I keep asking why me, why my family.  Surely we have been through enough.  I am tired all the time, not the normal go and have a nap and everything will be alright tired.  No what I am experiencing is like walking through treacle. I am exhausted, but have lost the ability to find restorative sleep.
My temper is shot, I am usually patient with the boys but the anger I am experiencing is red hot.  I want to lash out and hurt people, I want to bang my aching arms in to the wall.  I want to sit and let all the red hot pain out through the tears which burn by checks as they fall.  

But it doest go, it remains seated firmly inside me,  making me no fun to be with.  This is not me, I don't recognise this person I am becoming.  Everything is too much trouble, to much effort.

I miss my caffeine, I miss my get up and go, I miss the all encompassing feeling of joy of doing something with the boys.  

My housework is getting on top of me, it is hard keeping up with my appointments, let alone my mums.  I am feeling terribly guilty as I have had to ask my brother to take mum to the consultants this week, as I can not find the time to take her alongside everything else I need to do.

Yesterday was also the first day back at school for the minimads and now I can not wait for the school holidays to come.  I missed them, my hear physically ached for them and couldn't wait to pick them up and have a big cuddle!

I fear I am drowning.



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Thursday, 16 July 2009

Hell in a handcart

I guess this morning is just the start of one of those day that you wish hadn't started. I guess the night wasn't that great either.

The Youngest MiniMad didn't settle at all and ended up sleeping in our bed, which meant that I had hardly any sleep. The eldest MiniMad had one of his very rare accidents (he has a chest infection and all the that coughing can not help). I spilt my cup of tea all over my bed.

Came down to put the first load of washing in to find The Cooking Fat had had two accidents during the night too.

Now the thing is Thursday are not the most favorite of my days. It is food shopping in the morning with my mum and the boys at Aldi and then I have a regular appointment on the afternoon and it is always so stressful. Today even more so, as I need to get sheets and Duvets for the youngest's new big boy bed which arrives tomorrow morning (hopefully).

Also I have had a falling out with a friend, which is really hard as I don't make friends lightly or easily and only have a few really close friends. I am trying to make amends, but she is not taking calls or answering e-mails and with two children I can not just drop everything and visit.

So I need to take a chill pill, relax a little and try to centre myself and finnish drawing out the shopping lists for the boys.
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