He knows which numbers to press to get to his favourite channel, he knows that in order to get my attention he has to stand in front of me and demand it. He knows that I get him breakfast, I sit in my room, I get him lunch, I sit in my room, I cook dinner, I spend an hour or two with him and his sister then send them to their room, this isn't me.
On work days I get us ready, kiss the teen, drop him to nursery and leave. I work. I make minimal conversation with the people around me about the weather, the show I haven't watched on TV and the book sat in my hand used to escape the room. This really isn't me.
He has come to my room now to sit with me, his body leaning on me just wanting to be as close as possible to the person who at present keeps him at arms length for reasons she can't understand. This is not me.
I don't know what's wrong (or perhaps I do) but I have to find a way to make it right. A way to play with my children again, hug them, dance with them, laugh with them and take them on adventures. I have to find that joy I know lives somewhere inside me and bring it to the surface, perhaps when today is yesterday I will be me again.
|Throw back from Halloween|