On Thursday night I hugged my father in law.
I cried, he cried, my mother in law cried. I told him I loved him, then I held his hand, whilst his wife held the other. My husband, his son, looked on, trying not to cry.
His hand was silky soft but bony -too skinny for the once round and jolly man I first met 10 years ago. He squeezed and stroked my hand with an affection that surprised me, for he was a quiet, non emotive sort. I'm so glad he did though, and that he told me he loved me too. I'm so glad I went to see him that night and didn't leave it until the next day as planned. I will treasure that last visit forever for he passed away the next day.
Baby Joe woke up for a feed at 3 am the night I visited my Father in law and as I sat up in bed with him, he held my hand.
As his tiny, soft little fingers grasped onto mine as he sleepily gulped his milk, I couldn't help but compare the two hands I'd held that day.
One hand, frail, old and soft, communicating with people by action where words failed it's owner, expressing love through a squeeze or a gesture to come over for a hug. A hand that was saying goodbye.
The other a hand that's just learning what it can do. That reaches and pulls everything in sight, including my hair and his toes. A hand that still has a thousand things to learn. That might play an instrument one day, might climb a mountain or swim a sea. A hand that's saying hello.
Holding both types of hand melted my heart.
I wish I could hold them both forever and never let go.
Tuesday, 23 December 2014
Tuesday, 16 December 2014
Stress busting selfcare (in secret?)
Evening friends.
There's quite a lot going on in my little world at the moment. Sophie, Joe & DH all had the dreaded sickness bug, followed very quickly by ear infections (Sophie) immunisations (Joe) and random temperatures (both of them).
Children are hard work. A toddler with an ear infection is the work of the devil.
Whilst we've been fighting our germs, my lovely Father in a Law has been fighting battles of his own. There's quite a back story with my FILs health, but to summarise he is 80, has had triple heart bypass surgery, two hip replacements, bowl cancer and stomach cancer. In 2012 he was given 2 months to live, but he's the most resilient old guy you've ever met and has been going strong until now. He went in to Guys Hospital in London 5 weeks ago to have an operation to remove the cancer from his lung and prolong his life and since then his health, both physical and mental, has deteriorated drastically.
Yesterday we finally managed to get him transferred to a local hospital, but the journey nearly killed him and the doctors there have been shocked with the state he's in. They believe he had a stroke 5 weeks ago at Guys and it was never picked up, but they cannot confirm their suspicions with a scan as he's not currently well enough.
It's all been unbelievable stressful for everyone, no sleep, whining kids, constant phone calls.... It takes it's toll. Sunday morning one of our cars wouldn't start and it was the last straw for me, I had to have a good cry and go for an hour or so time out,
I felt better for it but I did, and still do, feel awful for needing it.
It was my DH who had to spend the day up in London, arguing with Doctors, listening to his dad saying he just wants to die, and there I am saying a I need a break? How selfish is that?
I was so ashamed for not being able to cope better, for not being able to support people who needed it more than ever.
When I got back home Sunday I sorted out my thoughts. I realised that I'd spent 2 weeks running around, tolerating things and not doing any of the things I know help me maintain balance, mainly because, with everything that's been going on, I felt too guilty to make time for them. How can I think about going for a run at a time like this? How could I nip out without the kids for a few hours when DH has so much going on?
That's why Things came to a head on Sunday. I didn't deal with any of the stress, did nothing to recharge my batteries, then suddenly felt overwhelmed and exhausted.
I'm trying to learn from it. Tonight my sister came and helped with the kids bath and bedtime and I popped out for a run whilst she was here, but it felt SO cheeky! Asking someone to help you when you're struggling with the kids is one thing, asking them to babysit is another, but babysitting whilst I run? I feel like anyone, even my sister, will think that's a very cheeky thing to ask. In my mind they're rolling they're eyes, thinking how I've got my priorities all wrong and how I should be worried about DH or FIL - not running!
I've messaged some friends about grabbing a short lunch or coffee or something at the weekend just so I can have an hour or two without the kids. I haven't asked DH about that yet because again, I feel selfish and cheeky and I'm putting it off. Even though I know that an hours break like that will massively help me stay in control.
It is really, really hard to put yourself first, especially in situations like this, but I'm really starting to understand why it's important. I'd be better at it if I could do it without anyone knowing. If I could selfcare without fear of the selfish label.
There's quite a lot going on in my little world at the moment. Sophie, Joe & DH all had the dreaded sickness bug, followed very quickly by ear infections (Sophie) immunisations (Joe) and random temperatures (both of them).
Children are hard work. A toddler with an ear infection is the work of the devil.
Whilst we've been fighting our germs, my lovely Father in a Law has been fighting battles of his own. There's quite a back story with my FILs health, but to summarise he is 80, has had triple heart bypass surgery, two hip replacements, bowl cancer and stomach cancer. In 2012 he was given 2 months to live, but he's the most resilient old guy you've ever met and has been going strong until now. He went in to Guys Hospital in London 5 weeks ago to have an operation to remove the cancer from his lung and prolong his life and since then his health, both physical and mental, has deteriorated drastically.
Yesterday we finally managed to get him transferred to a local hospital, but the journey nearly killed him and the doctors there have been shocked with the state he's in. They believe he had a stroke 5 weeks ago at Guys and it was never picked up, but they cannot confirm their suspicions with a scan as he's not currently well enough.
It's all been unbelievable stressful for everyone, no sleep, whining kids, constant phone calls.... It takes it's toll. Sunday morning one of our cars wouldn't start and it was the last straw for me, I had to have a good cry and go for an hour or so time out,
I felt better for it but I did, and still do, feel awful for needing it.
It was my DH who had to spend the day up in London, arguing with Doctors, listening to his dad saying he just wants to die, and there I am saying a I need a break? How selfish is that?
I was so ashamed for not being able to cope better, for not being able to support people who needed it more than ever.
When I got back home Sunday I sorted out my thoughts. I realised that I'd spent 2 weeks running around, tolerating things and not doing any of the things I know help me maintain balance, mainly because, with everything that's been going on, I felt too guilty to make time for them. How can I think about going for a run at a time like this? How could I nip out without the kids for a few hours when DH has so much going on?
That's why Things came to a head on Sunday. I didn't deal with any of the stress, did nothing to recharge my batteries, then suddenly felt overwhelmed and exhausted.
I'm trying to learn from it. Tonight my sister came and helped with the kids bath and bedtime and I popped out for a run whilst she was here, but it felt SO cheeky! Asking someone to help you when you're struggling with the kids is one thing, asking them to babysit is another, but babysitting whilst I run? I feel like anyone, even my sister, will think that's a very cheeky thing to ask. In my mind they're rolling they're eyes, thinking how I've got my priorities all wrong and how I should be worried about DH or FIL - not running!
I've messaged some friends about grabbing a short lunch or coffee or something at the weekend just so I can have an hour or two without the kids. I haven't asked DH about that yet because again, I feel selfish and cheeky and I'm putting it off. Even though I know that an hours break like that will massively help me stay in control.
It is really, really hard to put yourself first, especially in situations like this, but I'm really starting to understand why it's important. I'd be better at it if I could do it without anyone knowing. If I could selfcare without fear of the selfish label.
Saturday, 6 December 2014
Did I not deserve to be loved, Like everyone else was loved?
It doesn't matter what you've bought your children this Christmas. The biggest present, the most expensive present, the fashionable present or no present at all... It's irrelevant. It doesn't matter how many holidays you go on, whether you live in a 5 bedroom detached house or a 2 bed council terrace.
The number of instruments they're learning, how academically gifted they are, the after school clubs they attend or the sports trophies they've won - all of it is completely worthless as an assessment of your parenting skills.
The age old cliche is true, the one thing that matters, the only thing that matters, is that you love them and you show it.
Say it often, hug them and kiss them and ruffle their hair. Pay an interest in their life, listen to their stories. PLAY with them. Show them how to do their hair, give them make up advice and help them get ready for discos. Freeze your arse off at football matches cheering them on.
Don't wish they were different. Don't compare them to other peoples children and wish they were less loud/cheeky/sensitive or more intelligent/outgoing or sporty. They'll pick up on it, they'll feel the critique. Trust me, I did and it has never left me.
Embrace them for who they are, love them unconditionally and the rest of their upbringing, well that's all just gravy. You'll get some things wrong & some things right. You'll argue with them, you'll exasperate each-other, and I'm certain at some point they'll tell you they hate you.
But they won't mean it.
I'm sorry to say that I do mean it when I say I hate my mum (although there is something distinctly blasphemous about seeing that written down. Only an awful person could hate their own mother right?)
I love her in a 'she's my mum so I have to' kind of way, and I feel pity towards her because I understand where her issues come from, but I also hate her. I know it's a psychological stereotype, a text book scenario, but her lack of love, interest and involvement in my life has left me continuously and unsuccessfully trying to fill a void.
It's a void that affects my self confidence, my ability to handle criticism or confrontation, and inevitably, my love life. I hate myself for it, I constantly assess myself and what I do/who I am trying to stop being the 'way' I am. Trying desperately to be 'normal'.
Try as I might, I just can't forgive her for giving me these issues that I have to deal with for the rest of my life.
But I didn't write this to talk about me and my demons, I've known what they are for a long time, and I will continue my battles with them throughout my life. Maybe one day I'll beat them, but that remains to be seen.
My real fear, my more recent concern and what suddenly feels like the only thing that really matters in my life, is my ability to prevent my children from having demons of their own. Or worse; them being passed my demons as an emotional legacy.
How do I stop that happening? And what's more how do I stop myself from over compensating and smothering my children with love and compassion to the point of non discipline or lack of balance?
All I want is for them to have the opposite in life to what I had. And to grow up with confidence, love, kindness and fun, knowing that someone believes in them.
There was a line in a film I went to see with a friend tonight - 'Did I not deserve to be loved, like everyone else was loved?'
If that line ever resonates with my children the way it did with me, then I have failed badly in life.
The number of instruments they're learning, how academically gifted they are, the after school clubs they attend or the sports trophies they've won - all of it is completely worthless as an assessment of your parenting skills.
The age old cliche is true, the one thing that matters, the only thing that matters, is that you love them and you show it.
Say it often, hug them and kiss them and ruffle their hair. Pay an interest in their life, listen to their stories. PLAY with them. Show them how to do their hair, give them make up advice and help them get ready for discos. Freeze your arse off at football matches cheering them on.
Don't wish they were different. Don't compare them to other peoples children and wish they were less loud/cheeky/sensitive or more intelligent/outgoing or sporty. They'll pick up on it, they'll feel the critique. Trust me, I did and it has never left me.
Embrace them for who they are, love them unconditionally and the rest of their upbringing, well that's all just gravy. You'll get some things wrong & some things right. You'll argue with them, you'll exasperate each-other, and I'm certain at some point they'll tell you they hate you.
But they won't mean it.
I'm sorry to say that I do mean it when I say I hate my mum (although there is something distinctly blasphemous about seeing that written down. Only an awful person could hate their own mother right?)
I love her in a 'she's my mum so I have to' kind of way, and I feel pity towards her because I understand where her issues come from, but I also hate her. I know it's a psychological stereotype, a text book scenario, but her lack of love, interest and involvement in my life has left me continuously and unsuccessfully trying to fill a void.
It's a void that affects my self confidence, my ability to handle criticism or confrontation, and inevitably, my love life. I hate myself for it, I constantly assess myself and what I do/who I am trying to stop being the 'way' I am. Trying desperately to be 'normal'.
Try as I might, I just can't forgive her for giving me these issues that I have to deal with for the rest of my life.
But I didn't write this to talk about me and my demons, I've known what they are for a long time, and I will continue my battles with them throughout my life. Maybe one day I'll beat them, but that remains to be seen.
My real fear, my more recent concern and what suddenly feels like the only thing that really matters in my life, is my ability to prevent my children from having demons of their own. Or worse; them being passed my demons as an emotional legacy.
How do I stop that happening? And what's more how do I stop myself from over compensating and smothering my children with love and compassion to the point of non discipline or lack of balance?
All I want is for them to have the opposite in life to what I had. And to grow up with confidence, love, kindness and fun, knowing that someone believes in them.
There was a line in a film I went to see with a friend tonight - 'Did I not deserve to be loved, like everyone else was loved?'
If that line ever resonates with my children the way it did with me, then I have failed badly in life.
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