Son Number Two lies shivering beside me. He is sick and even the sun that shines this morning is not enough to reassure me when I don’t know where he will be sleeping tonight.
There seems to be a growing feeling amongst my friends that I should go back from whence I came. It is not as simple as it may seem. Yes, that is where Son Number One and Daughter Number Two live. But I would not be going back to a rent subsidized four bedroom home full of expensive furniture and my three children. I would be going back to condemnation and judgement. No accommodation in a place where rentals are extremely difficult to secure and rents are high. Even if I found somewhere to live I have no furniture. I can bear being on the other side of the country and being apart from Daughter Number Two. I can bear being apart from Son Number One; he is eighteen now and all things being equal he should be independent of me. What I could not bear, though, would be to live near to my Daughter. Near enough so that she would be within my reach, but not have her with me. That I could not bear. And at the end of the day I was miserable there. It was never home to me. It was just somewhere I lived.
I am grateful for the love and concern being showered upon me. My knights, you know who you are! The irony is that but for He Who Shall Not Be Named I would know none of you. Had He not challenged me to make friends and perversely taught me to value myself I would not have had the friends I do today. Even if I had known this is how it would end I would still have come here. For fourteen months Son Number Two and I had a home and family. Son Number Two has had structure and cricket and someone who challenged him mentally. His growth has been enormous. He was telling me about things he’d learnt at school last week and I was asking him to elaborate and he could. Before Neverland he couldn’t have done that. He has seen a different way to live and good values to live by. He had a strong, very male role model for once in his life. Son Number Two’s love of animals has been fostered and enhanced by being challenged. I cannot possibly quantify the gifts we have been given since being here. And yes, it really, really sucks to have that all ripped away. But for a time we really lived.
A taxi is taking us to our next destination. It has just pulled over so Son Number Two can be sick. He is so worn down by events but remains resolute in his belief in me. I cannot fathom why. No Mother of the Year award for me.
Things have been so full on since I returned from my stay with the Current Person of Interest. Before this weekend there has been only one day that I haven’t had an obligation outside the house. It was so bad that late last week Daughter Number Two would start moaning ‘I need to get home’ every time we went somewhere. I was in silent agreement with her!!
There were visits to Nana, and Baby Daddy, and appointments galore. There were shopping trips to buy new clothes for Nana which is more challenging than it sounds and which I have yet to finish. I thought that it would be a snap. I love shopping, and I’m good at it. I realised though as I waded through racks and racks of clothes that buying for Nana was a different task. Firstly, I needed to buy something wash and wear as she has been refusing to wear anything that has not been ironed, which is a little beyond the scope of the staff at the Aged Care facility. I saw for myself on Melbourne Cup day how much the whole non-ironed thing bothered her so it will be good to remove one trigger for anxiety if possible. Then I had to get a style and colour that would be acceptable to Nana, easier said than done. And of course it all had to be in the right size. It was just so terribly time-consuming!! I am only about half done, but I have managed to pull together three full ensembles, which I have to drop off to be tagged with her name during the week. Then I will head back into the trenches.
In the midst of all the running around Son Number One has still been having seizures. Last Thursday I was out paying bills, grocery and Nana shopping and delivering Daughter Number Two for a Baby Daddy visit when I received a phone call from Son Number One’s school to say he’d had a Grand Mal or Tonic Clonic seizure, only his second in his life. He’s had plenty of others, and in fact had a Complex Partial the day before at school also. This only strengthened my feeling that the changes to his medications were not working for him. Anyhow, I had to race around grabbing what groceries I could- the cupboards were pretty bare so I had to do some shopping- before grabbing Daughter Number Two and jumping in a taxi for home. I walked in the door, phoned Son Number One’s school to let them know I was home, and they could bring him home now and hung up. The phone rang. It was Son Number Two’s school!
He had been beaten up and although they thought he was ok to continue at school for the day he had expressed a desire to speak to me!! I am very proud of Son Number Two because it wasn’t actually a fight he was in. An older student had been picking on a friend of Son Number Two and my son had told the other student to leave his friend alone. The mini thug then turned and beat my son around the head and body. Son Number Two did not retaliate though, which would have meant disciplinary consequences for him also. Anyhow, when he arrived home that afternoon he had various bruises about his person and a bruised , swollen and weepy eye.
The day after was Friday! Praise be! I had to run around like a mad thing for most of the day doing things I hadn’t managed the day before. Although I still feel an inner peace, and did not feel overwhelmed, I slumped into the weekend feeling absolutely shattered. Today is Sunday and I am still exhausted even though I have been getting adequate sleep at night. We still have lots to do away from home next week, but I am determined to make the schedule a little less demanding. There are always things that are outside my control but I am going to try not to run myself ragged this week.
That’s the plan anyhow!
I am tired. Tired, tired, tired. This has been a long week with appointments, two visits to Nana, Daughter Number Two’s paternal grandparents in town and general day to day craziness. Just to top things off nicely for the last two days Daughter Number Two has been boycotting her daytime sleep. As she is only just two years old, and doesn’t sleep exceptionally long hours at the best of times, skipping the nap turns her into into an overtired, cranky little person. She is usually an extremely pleasant easy going child, but sleep deprivation doesn’t help anyone.
Funny I should mention sleep deprivation because last night she decided sleeping at night was overrated as well. She went to sleep at 8pm. I went to sleep around midnight. She woke up at 1am, 2.20am, 6am and we were up at 7am. Daughter Number Two does not appear to be ill, she was well fed and watered. She was warmly dressed because she routinely kicks her covers off. I have no idea what is behind the moratorium on sleep.
On the plus side I have no nightmares to report. And it is Saturday- thank goodness for that!! No school, no appointments, no visits with Baby Daddy. I have been able to slide into the day gently. Sort of slump into the day really. I have eaten a comforting breakfast with lots of carbohydrates and a chocolate chaser. I have read all my favourite blogs. I have done numerous quizzes on Facebook. And now I’m here talking to you.
It is really cold and grey and miserable outside. It is perfect snuggling weather. Ideally I would be in bed, with a good book and the current person of interest, music playing softly in the background, toasty warm and comfy. I would read for a little bit, have some cuddles and disappear into a few tender kisses before letting my eyes drift shut and getting washed away on a wave of peaceful sleep. I would dream of bunnies and kittens and soft laughing babies and only stir briefly as the current person of interest snuggled in closer and held me tighter.
Instead the best I can hope for is that she finally exhausts herself enough to give in and sleep today, because if I don’t get a break at halftime I’m not sure where we will be by dinner time. Daughter Number Two has hit the ground running as usual and is currently very busy peeling off all the Dora stickers Baby Daddy put on her play equipment for her yesterday. This was inevitable. I am not fighting it. I am saving my strength for the big sleep battle of 2009.
I’ve been wandering around the blogosphere today and it is a little intimidating. It is also awe-inspiring. There are so many voices out there, some saying things so much better than I am. So many people and stories and lives. Maybe it doesn’t matter what I say or how I say it here, because today no one has dropped in to read it, and my biggest day yesterday was with six views!
My primary motivation was to empty out some of the things spinning around in my head, and that is certainly accomplished by writing here. And I guess however small the numbers I am connecting with others on some level, even if it is only when I follow links to their words.
Today has been a busy but mundane day. Housework and children and getting ready to lurch into the coming week. It has been chilly, I am tired, I can’t remember the last morning I awoke without the dull headache that slows me down all day. My two year old Daughter Number Two has decided she no longer needs her day time sleep. I beg to disagree as she has been cranky and tired all afternoon.
I know that I have a very busy day tomorrow and I am less than enthusiastic. I have to fit in two doctor’s appointments, one visit to my Nana, one visit to Centrelink, one visit for Daughter Number Two with her Dad, blood tests and be home at 1pm in time for Son Number One to get home from school.
I am writing this while making dinner. Predictably Daughter Number Two has fallen asleep on the lounge next to her brother. Sigh. Finally she sleeps and I have to wake her. Oh well, we are nearing the finish line of bedtime. I think tonight the children and I may be neck and neck.
Despite having to drag myself step by step through the day I still feel like I’ve accomplished some things. Nothing big, but every little bit counts.