I have probably got this wrong, it’s a lone time ago now. Back when I knew how to speak this language the above meant ‘as alone as a finger’ in Afrikaans. So you ever just feel very separate? I think being with children so enmeshed and physical and loved sometimes on a very pre verbal level can be overwhelming because then you turn to the adults in your life and get a peck on the cheek or a ‘pass the salt’ response and frankly it is disappointing. This affects me probably more than most as in the past I had mental health issues born in part from a difficult relationships with my parents. There was much love be but there was this distance that even now sometimes I feel. This is in no way unique I know because in my work it is paramount to understand the push pull of relationships.
Sometimes it hurts though no matter how much I know or think I know the base facts are we all want to feel wanted, needed and loved and when that doesn’t happen we are left open to other feelings of rejection and abandonment. Some people manage these through being good to themselves and others through being very very bad. In the past I was the latter. Now I want to feel ok but there are times like tonight where I passed out with the kids and then missed any time with DH and he was quite cold because he feels side lined I expect that I then feel very alone and Misunderstood. There just isn’t enough of me to go around.
Last night Gaby was awake pretty much an hour after I got to sleep at 12 and did not settle till 3.30 at which point my back was really bad and I could not sleep because I was panicked about coping with work. I had maybe four hours at a push. I had to wake DH to help me give her caliph as think it was teething.
So I got up late and then rushed around eating toast as I dressed and fed everyone and DH made Randall pasta for school lunch as teacher told us yesterday he is not eating enough which of course sets of massive alarm bells. One thing I really hate about this country is the over intrusive state when it comes to parents. From what I have read and seen at work the social services are massively over involved with the wrong people and absent and oblivious with the right. I have spoken to other mums about this and it is alarming how many parents would rather not go to the Dr with a sick child in case there is an unwelcome misinterpretation. For my part I go too much coming from a medical family and having a somewhat misplaced faith in medicine. Which makes me equally anxious.
So anyway we are on top of this fussy eater like flies on sh*t at the moment. But then he gets his toothbrush and covers himself in red toothpaste but there is no time to change him so off he goes to school in a disheveled state. I have a friend whose son told the teacher she was lazy as with three she never gets the youngest dressed on the school run. I could launch into another story here about … oh dear I have forgotten it may come to me! Oh yeah we had a very freaky letter from the school about not supplying a PE kit when in fact Randall told the teacher he did not have one when in fact he did. It was a standard letter and they apologised but it still had my DH and a family friend trawling the shops at 11 pm on a school night trying to rustle up a new kit for fear of being reported. Surely a disproportionate and i might add stressful and expensive result. We had an apology from class and PE teacher but I still can’t help but wonder, as dearest Carrie used to say, is that written down somewhere?
Ok paranoid rant over. We then carried on and I went to work and then a quick swim as I feel an extraordinary need to a) exercise and b) stay in shape. Then I took the baby swimming to a) wear her out and b) be a good not selfish mother.
And then without a nap I plough on through bath time and dinner and homework having asked DH not to go to the film he planned please as I am too tired to cope alone. So as I then take the boys up to bed he is sulking as he washes up again which I know he hates. And of course I fell asleep next to my 4 year old at 9 pm having failed to a) buy my seven year old a red statue of the infant de Prague – don’t ask. Ok do. Long story short my mom visited the estranged brother and sister in law and niece and her family in CZech and returned with a white version of this statue and my DS1 fave colour is red so he is not impressed. I promised to get one online if he went to bed. On amazon they retail between 3 and 170 quid. And b) read DS1 his space book after he did a brilliant review complete with sketch of Mars. Achieved neither.
So I conked out whilst DH presumably finished washing up and waited for me to join him for exercise/ tv/nookie maybe. I’m sure he did the first two anyway.
So I am feeling alone. Alone because he was cool and unwelcoming. Alone because my DB was in town and do not make the effort to meet. Alone because my mum only visits once a week in winter.But then I look at Gaby in my arms as I feed her the dreaded 11 pm feed and wonder how alone she feels as I return her to her cot as advised to cry herself to sleep as per guidelines of sleep training and I again can’t help but wonder if I am doing the right thing. And as any mother will tell you nothing gives us sleepless nights like worrying about the kids.