Skip to main content

The first week of school

It's late and my thoughts might come out a bit smooshed, but I have to get into the practice of doing this again.

Today was hard.  This week was hard.

I started work after a seriously short holiday, with longing in my heart to stay home with Oliver.  My heart breaks for the mothers who have to work, I know there are those you want to, but there are many more who have to. My heart breaks for myself.  At this stage we have no idea what to do with our precious youngest child.  At 14 months he is getting too big and busy to still come to work with me and we cannot afford to put him into a playschool.  I am very grateful that he is able to be with Emiel. It works, for now, kinda.    

Beatrice started big school this week.  It has been exhausting, even trying to type this is exhausting. She uses so much energy trying to be good, trying to listen, trying to concentrate, trying to sit still that the minute steps out of the school building she lets go.  I am finding it harder to deal with her letting go.  Today, at the mall, she let her body flop, something she does when she is unhappy or unsettled or I don't honestly know why she does it, and I tripped almost landing on top of her.  This morning we had a meeting at a place where our children can play, she spent her time flopped over the bench beside me needing me to scratch her back.  She wants to be picked up, held, a lot and she is 6.  I get it, kinda, but it is so damn hard.

Alexander went back to school with a tummy ache.  I was shattered.  He had settled in after the first 2 days, and was even excited for the sports day, but then he didn't run fast enough to get a medal.  Oh man, how I wish I had some superpower, to zap the disappointment right from my child before it pierced his oh so tender heart.   And today, when those girls told him he couldn't play and that he was annoying...

That is all.  I would have loved to have shared with you some nugget of wisdom that I have learnt from this week, I don't have it yet.  I leave you with this hunk, covered in bolognese sauce.

Peace be with you
Philippa


 

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Thank you for commenting, I really love hearing from you

Popular posts from this blog

Longing for Winter

"It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are." — E.E. Cummings  "Unbeing dead isn't being alive." — E.E. Cummings "We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit." — E.E. Cummings   I had not intended to start with anything like the above quotes, but aren't they amazing?  What I had wanted was to find a poem about winter.  In the spider-webbed, cardboard-boxed-up mind of mine I remember something and I decided it was e.e.cummings but even though the internet is oh wow! I can't find it. Or maybe it's the dust.   My husband needs all of the credit for this post.  We discuss our life continuously.  We look at the good and the bad, what we are doing right and what is going horribly wrong....
6 comments
Read more

Hope and Mercedes Benz's

So my weekend went like this: My hope is not what it should be, hoplessness is starting to creep in Emiel leaves for camp I watch a stupid movie and feel scared My hope fades just a bit more I do my very best to keep my little people happy and content while their daddy is away Alexander is really not happy his daddy is away My hope continues fading I have plans to go my parents for Saturday Phone my dad who says my mom has had another allergic reaction to a medication I end up trying to clean and leave later then expected Get a text message from my dad saying I need to get there He needs to go out and my mom doesn't want to be left alone Suddenly it dawns on me that this reaction is quite serious My hope is fading fast I arrive at my parents' house with the littlies in tow I rush to my mom who has been trying to sleep She asks if her eyes are red Her face is swollen This is the third reaction And this time it was to Paracetamol (one of the components in the other meds) My mom...
2 comments
Read more

Grief

I have started without finishing more posts than I can count.  I have and still do find it very difficult to put down the words that will most likely open the sluice gates I am not sure I am willing to open.   We were living in Japan when we received the phone call from my mother telling me that my father had chosen to take his life.  My mother felt it necessary to tell me before I read it on Facebook.   I don't want to talk about suicide now or how damn angry I am with him, I will at some stage, I need to share what life is like for those left behind.  I do want to talk about how grief is like the scene of a train wreck.   For years I had prided myself in my ability to self-evaluate.  I new I was insecure, or if I had treated someone unkindly.  I was able to prejudge my emotions and navigate them before they caused damage.  I have always been deep, but I had moved clear of the precipice leading to despair.   Grief comes l...
Post a Comment
Read more