The school holidays started today. At 6.45am, apparently, because my son didn’t get the memo. He has his routine, 365 days a year!
Normally I’m not totally daunted by the holidays, as I have him on my own for 5-6 days max, but Bryan left at 7.30 this morning for a cycling weekend away with his cycling buddies from work, and he’s back Sunday, then working 12 hour shifts until Wednesday. But, this being the holidays, we have back to back activities planned, and the last time I had this demanding of a schedule, I wasn’t recovering from a pelvic osteotomy. It’s a lot.
I didn’t want to overwhelm Jack today – instead I decided to show him what a normal morning is like for me when he is at school. He often tries to refuse to go to school, whinging “I want to stay with you!”… I’ll show him!
I started as I meant to go on, and did everything we needed to do. This meant a trip to hospital for physiotherapy, a trip to Homebase for masonry paint, a diversion over to the doctors to drop in a letter, a pit stop at the pharmacy where my medication wasn’t ready AGAIN and the one item that was, was incorrect (no painkillers for me tonight then!); finally stopping at Grandma’s to pick up the holiday timetable she had printed for us. It’s brilliant, but it doesn’t start until tomorrow so we are still winging it until then.
After half an hour of Jack running around in the garden, we headed home for a bit of Easter crafting. After making an Easter flower jar, and the flowers to go in, and having food, it was only 2pm. How in the hell?! Very pleased with Jack’s efforts today though, as normally he won’t sit at crafty activities for long. We have so much crafty stuff it’s unreal. I go to The Works a lot, and buy all the things. When my friend recently got married, I had so many things we could use to make the decorations and we didn’t actually spend very much making all her beautiful decorations.
When the ants in his pants came back we went to the park, and then for a walk around the estate so I could show him the home I lived in as a child, and the matchbox we moved to when Jack was a only 15 months old. He didn’t remember it, but it was nice to be able to show him.
Now we are home, and I am sundowning. It’s a term often used in patients with Alzheimer’s and dementia – where their lucidity becomes foggier and foggier as the day goes on, but I think it applies well to chronic illness. When the little bit of energy runs out, we hit a wall, and so our ‘sun’ goes down. Our day ends, often prematurely.
I have ordered a treat tea, because today was a lot, and tomorrow, I will plan better. I haven’t got time to pace myself, and I hope I can get through the week ahead unscathed. It’ll be fine. It has to be. There really are no other options.
Ending on a positive, now he’s seen how much hassle it is running errands, I can remind him of this day in the future when he doesn’t want to go to school. He was highly unimpressed!