Start of the week

10.30am

Its hard to even carve out fifteen minutes to write. The house is full. My head is full. My heart is full. All my family back in the nest. How I adore my beautiful teenage son. He is two inches taller than me now. He will grow taller, stronger, how amazing it is to see him metamorphose into a young man.

Naoise watching Ninjago. Syd in the shower. My friend out in his car, he likes to drive his car.

My period has arrived to surprise me again. I hate my periods. I hate PMT. I hate excessive bleeding. I just feel bloated and sore and have cramps and would rather not have them. They take up so much emotional and physical energy. Sleepless nights, anxiety, inability to think logically. My periods are very heavy, I am not moaning unnecessarily, yes all women have periods, but if you have fibroids then they can be truly horrific. I wish I had a more positive experience of them. I wish I felt cleansed. I look forward to the two weeks of no period pain and no pmt and then we are back to square one again. My periods seem to be closer and closer together, following a three week as opposed to a four week cycle. I try to track them but I can never really pre-empt when the next one may be. At least I don’t have to do anything particularly physical today. I didnt sleep much last night.

Naoise keeps kicking over the little white stool and fidgeting.

The washing machine is taking off in the kitchen.

The robins have eaten their oatcakes. One robin sits right on the doorstep to ask for its breakfast. We think that there are three fledglings but its difficult to distinguish one from another. I would need to tag each with a different colour to enable me to know who is who.

My friend has returned. This needs to end. I cannot write when there are adults and children to care for.

I have fought for these few moments of thought. I washed the kitchen floor, did the washing up, sorted out clean clothes, put clean clothes away, I have made breakfast in bed for the children, got Naoise dressed and up.

Breath. Breath. Rest a while. Pause. Stop……for a moment…until the next space of thinking time arrives.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *