A fresh approach!

The last two days have been spent shopping for school uniforms. This is surprisingly tiresome when kitting out children with odd shaped bodies. Number one son has extra narrow feet, number one daughter has extra wide feet, number one son has narrow waist with long legs, number two son has wide shoulders and waist for arm and leg length, and number two son and daughter haven’t grown a shoe size in a year (but can bet they will before term start!) Even so I’ve done remarkably well and have plenty of time for the sewing alterations (in fact, I may even appear organised to people who don’t really know me).

This all came about because I was feeling bold. I awoke yesterday morning convinced that good days came about because of my temperament, and all I had to do was get through the day with a positive patient attitude, the children would then reflect back my harmony – and soon ALL days would become good!

This is utter crap.

I tried, I really, really tried, and I’m too worn out to explain. But I never raised my voice, beat or even threatened anyone. In fact on the ‘mothering scale’ I did good. And it’s not like the children were the worst they’ve ever been. But I’ve discovered bottling my emotions and faking a happy exterior blow my ‘I’m-in-control-scale’ apart.

Must stay calm. Must stay calm. Must, must, must! That’s what was going through my mind when it all got too much and I had my panic attack, in town, with the four children. Except maybe it wasn’t a panic attack ‘cause I haven’t had one in well over a decade, and I wasn’t panicking so much as containing my impatience fury exasperation. (For any who are lucky enough to have got through life without the experience, it goes something like this: it’s like you’re in a balloon and all of a sudden it pops and the air rushes out and the world shrinks in, at the same time an invisible foe is sticking a knife in your abdomen and pins in your lungs.)

Fortunately I knew what was happening and didn’t collapse from sheer fright. Unfortunately my silent migraine* swiftly join the fray. (This seems to be something unique to me** (lucky me!) and I have baffled many a good doctor and eye specialist with its manifestation. It tends to occur in my right eye, blowing the pupil into a cats-eye shape and stealing my vision for a minute or two. I’ve had loads of tests, even an MRI. There’s nothing amiss, and as my doctor pointed out – I’ve had it six years and it hasn’t killed me yet. So I don’t worry. Much. And it’s cool to look at ;o))

Right now I’m feeling more pissed off than anything else. Pissed off that shopping can do this to me, and that my body lets me down in such stupid ways, and that the kids weren’t any less boisterous after my embarrassing public staggering-about dance!

But number two son did manage to amuse me. When I could again breathe without gasping, I told the children I was feeling sick and needed to get home, P asked “Like sea-sickness? Coz if it was like that it would be worse at sea ‘coz worse things happen at sea!”

Apparently, I should thank Balamory*** for teaching him this nugget of wisdom -- how right they are! I would probably have fallen overboard.

---x---

*This is what one doctor called it and it’s stuck.
** I did find one reference to something like it on the net, but the author didn’t respond to my email, and then the site vanished.
*** Childrens TV show I CANNOT BARE.