When i get tired and distressed, i shut down. All i can think of is sleep, and the numbing release of random dreams.
He is asking me to let go, just a little, of my children. I can't bear, can't comprehend, can't believe that we are at this point.
Tonight my son and i had a conversation. He wanted to work out all the ages of his, and his brother's, comfort toys - where i had bought them, and when. Together we pieced together all the significant dates, and the order of seniority. It is a past that is suddenly muffled to me. Places and situations that seem eerily unreal. Another woman, another life, when births, birthdays, holidays and foreign living were celebrated with the arrival of soft creatures to be cuddled and loved. To my child it is his immediate past, a catalogue of his security, yet for me it has become a broken path.
All the while, he held tightly the ancient bundle of wool and fluff that i keep under my pillow.
Both the children are fascinated that i have a teddy that is as old as i am, and they hold it reverently, kiss it good night with affection. It is new to them as it was packed away in various drawers and cupboards during my marriage to their father - hidden away ever since my first pregnancy - yet suddenly, thankfully, near at hand, for times like these.
There is little point in me being awake any longer this evening. Sleep is where i should be, right now.
10 comments:
A lot of this is inevitable. Talk to other mothers in similar situations. Your son's approach sound very sensible and mature for an eight-year old.
Good luck,
M in Devon
"All the while, he held tightly the ancient bundle of wool and fluff that I keep under my pillow."
On the Antiques Roadshow, that would make it a priceless object. :)
Q.
Mine was a present on my first birthday - Despite button eyes, he watches over my studio.
(HUGS)
The evolution of your life will not be an easy thing, but it will still happen.
Your boys sound lovely. And they know this isn't easy for you either, even if they can't express it in so many words. But they love you and always will.
Warm hugs to you.
I am not ashamed to say I cried when I read this post..... now I need to make the lemon cake.
Sleep...the best place to be..oblvious to it all. We still need to arrange that shopping date hon, along with a good old chinwag. xx
Many things and many people spring to mind.
When they're really big and really grown-up, your boys will think back and realise that this was probably a tough time for mum, and that she did really well. Any mathematicians among them will then begin to wonder about whether there would have been a statistically significant relationship between the strain that mum was under, and the amount of baking that went on.
Reference nipple clamps. The nettles are already well advanced here in the South West, and their "bite" is at its most vicious in the spring. If you like one, you'll like the other.
M in Devon
M
thank you
re: nipple clamps v nettle sting
- i shall definitely need to be tied securely.
Q - i am not *that* old :)
AAE - keeping watch over us, them both
Ponita - they are lovely, yes. I imagine all children break their parents' hearts eventually.
Inwardly - hello, you have two boys, too, don't you? i hope they enjoy the lemon cake.
trix - looking forward to both :)
Shane - you make me laugh (which i appreciate hugely). Yes - baking is a manifestation of stress. Dusting, however, is not.
Lemon cake went down a treat, smiles all round and a momentary silence as we all munched away, bliss.
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