Thursday, 26 May 2011

Rabbit in the headlights

I still can't find you through the fog, Lord. I feel as if I'm just going through the motions at the moment. I could do with a bit of encouragement, to be honest. Just give me a smile?

I feel as if things are piling up again and I'm about to be buried in an avalanche of stuff that need doing and I'm frozen like a rabbit in the headlights longing for a cup of coffee and a nice peaceful sunny day instead of getting them done. 

It's mostly trivia. 

Take this morning, for instance. The alarm went off (as in: the children) at about the right time for getting up, and had I got up at that point I could have washed my hair and felt better about how I look today. Instead I lay in bed with my eyes screwed shut hoping that there'd been some dreadful mistake and it wasn't morning. Entirely because of me the three of us went downstairs for breakfast late which meant trying to speed up the children's breakfast and dressing which is, as you know, a recipe for disaster. Even if mornings go smoothly they are a frustrating time in our house. So I was cross with Katy for refusing to try to get herself dressed, and cross with Elizabeth for being silly and making Katy laugh instead of getting dressed herself. So we left for school/nursery late and Elizabeth forgot her skipping rope which made her cross with me, and Katy forgot her aardvark for the Teddy Bear's Picnic at nursery which made her cross with me. 

By the time I'd left them both I felt worn out. 

On Tuesday this week Katy was supposed to take flowers in to nursery and I forgot that too, so we're doing well at being cross with Mummy this week. At least it wasn't as bad as the time that I forgot to send in a couple of cans of food for the Harvest collection at Kate's nursery. On that day as part of her Harvest assembly they were standing on the stage singing songs and thanking you for all the good things we have. Suddenly Katy announced accusingly at the top of her voice in front of the assembled parents, 'Mummy, you didn't send me with anything!'  Nothing like a bit of public shame.  You'd think I'd learn, wouldn't you?

So now I need to drop off an aardvark to nursery before lunchtime, and I think Lizzie could manage without her skipping rope as it's raining and they'll probably miss their playtime anyway. One or two KindMummy points would be gratefully appreciated.  Then I need to go to the supermarket and shop as I've been managing from the freezer and local shop for a couple of weeks so the cupboard is indeed bare. Meals have been getting a little eccentric as it is.

I started helping a friend with a few jobs that needed doing and when it all went pear shaped for me last week I stopped helping. I need to get onto organising a party for Elizabeth who'll be six in a few weeks. I need to buy her birthday present soon. I need to send cards and gifts to some other friends' children who are having important birthdays in the next few days. I need to send apologetic notes to friends who've had important birthdays that I've missed in the last few days. I need to make several calls, arrange a few repairs, hang a few pictures and repot Mum's yucca (yukka?) so that it doesn't blow over again. I need to clean the bathroom and the kitchen floor and peel Space Putty off the dining room carpet and do some baking as the bananas are squidgy. I need to buy new socks for the girls as they're too small and too holey. I need to write a letter to an old friend who asked if all was well in February and I haven't replied yet. I need to send a letter to the little girl in El Salvador that we sponsor who wrote to us and is surely wondering if we care at all. And I could do with a Good Night's Sleep. 

Did you get that? Mostly trivia, I know.

Arnie the Aardvark is the orange one.
I'm really not looking forward to this afternoon. I have to take Katy to the hospital for her pre-op assessment and tour of the children's ward. She now knows that she's going to have to sleep at the hospital for a night and that a doctor will give her some medicine to make her go to sleep and then when she wakes up her bump will be gone.  She said it was ok, she didn't mind her bump much and it could stay where it was.  Her eyes went all big and she said she didn't like the hospital any more. My poor little love. Could this lump not just disappear, Lord? Save all this scary stuff (for her and for us). 

I don't really know what it's all about but I haven't got the energy to go there at the moment, Father God. And I know that understanding why might not help much. I just don't want to have to take my daughter and allow someone else, skilled or unskilled, to make her unconscious so that they can rummage around in her neck. I'm going to buy her some new pyjamas to wear, and probably spoil her silly with little treats, but I am quite sure that it will be terrible to walk away from my sleeping baby when I know that someone's going to hurt her. Every night I look at them both as they sleep and my heart overflows with love even on the days when a few short hours earlier they've been little horrors. I love my children so much. I do, really. Even when I'm snapping at them for being silly or spilling milk or losing shoes or forgetting things, I love them so, so much.

Help me today, Lord, because I'm feeling ill equipped to cope with it all and I need to be on top of my game this afternoon. Katy's having nightmares (which is unsurprising)  so I'm not sleeping very well. I've got tonsillitis again, I'm so tired and headachey and I need a haircut . And a hairwash, actually, but I'm hoping you haven't noticed that. Ha! If I'd got up earlier...

Help me be what Katy needs today. Help me be loving and supportive and honest without being patronising or scary. Help me soften what needs softening and explain what needs explaining. And I'm hoping that there'll be an opportunity with Katy not listening for me to find out about the administration of anaesthetics and other specific stuff that I need to know to be prepared and calm down a bit. 

I know you're there, Lord, even if I can't feel you. I know you're there even if I can't hear you. I feel a bit as if I'm floundering round with little direction at the moment, but I'm trusting you to point out the signposts if you don't mind. Give me some energy and more patience and wisdom and ...and... everything else I'll need. 

And if you can make the sun shine that would help a bit too. 

Got to go now. It's nearly aardvark time.

PS.  Thankyou my Friend. I pressed 'publish post' and the sun came out. Bless you. 
PPS. As I came out of the house I could hear the children at Lizzie's school in the playground for playtime since the sun was out so I went that way and handed over her skipping rope at the gate. The joy on her face was worth it. It was another little gift. Thankyou. 

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