Naoise is still wanting to sleep, this is understandable seeing as he won’t actually fall to sleep until ten in the evening. I or we have never been able to break this cycle, sure he is a little earlier to settle when he is back at school, but no as far as I can remember Naosie has been a night owl and a daytime snoozer. Last night I was confronted by unwanted advice and judgemental comments about Naoise not going to sleep soon enough. I am not going to change this routine in one night and no one had any practical suggestions as to how this might happen or working together with me to make a change. I just felt blamed. I bit my lip. I bit my lip.
I am not too worried about it, its the summer, routines slip, school does not dictate my days. I am not going to make many changes right now, I have too much on. Whilst the others go to work and to play I am left holding the fort, feeding the washing machine, catering, hoovering the rug, maintaining. Maintenance takes up all my time.
Syd has gone out for another bike ride. He had a magical ride yesterday evening and saw two badgers.
The fledgling blundered into the front room. I think it flew out again. I worry when they come inside. I don’t want them to get stuck in the house or get stressed. I have swung the kitchen window open, just incase its hiding in a corner. I cannot hear any wings, I think its ok.
The washing machine chunders. I have got to the bottom of the laundry pile, just the hand wash items left. Hand washing is always left till I feel I have extra energy.
The sunflowers have completed filtered, the yellow petals of each head hang limp over the edge of the green jug.
My head hurts, I bought some cheap cans of cider, its a self induced headache. There isn’t any more alcohol left in the house so at least I cannot indulge anymore. I have been watching my weight creep back up. I need to loose another four to five pounds to be back where I was in the middle of July before departing for Cornwall. Each day I chalk up my weight on the blackboard. I am not very disciplined. Keeping a track is the only way to stop me pushing sweet things, fatty things, too much of everything into my mouth. I am not hungry, I am eating to forget, eating to calm, eating to dispense of negative emotions.
I feel under pressure. I need to be looking for work, but its not really possible when I have another full time job to do. This is the full-time job, this caring, undervalued job. A job that even I struggle to value, this mum job. This mum job that I have to justify. I need to write down what it is I do.
I organise. I clean. Beep beep says the washing machine. I manage. I cook. I cuddle. I sort out conflicts. I provide others with time so that they may do what they want to do may that be an activity or paid work. Now the oven buzzer tells to stop, to shut up, beep beep beep beep, beep beep beep beep.