Saturday, I was all but ready to wave the flag of ‘not coping’. Myriad small problems of my own, a lack of decent sleep, and, to be honest, a fairly poor diet for the previous week rendered me entirely incapable of seeing a tease, and entirely capable of bursting into tears in the middle of Hampstead Heath and picking a fight with poor N for all of 3 minutes.
Not like me at all.
And I still felt like it for much of the rest of the day. Emotional, belligerent, tired, fed up and really just Not In The Mood for anyone else, let alone their desires (and let’s not even get onto other people’s problems. Hadn’t the wherewithal for those at all).
A decent night’s sleep, and an awful lot of food on Saturday night have mostly done the trick. A day with just N yesterday also helped. Hell. Staying in bed until noon helped! And an iron tablet. Mustn’t forget that.
The rest will be fine. Christmas will be bittersweet – they’re letting N’s Dad out of the hospice for at least a few days, but it will be his last Christmas. N is being confused by How To Wrap for someone with limited grip (there will be a visit to youtube for instructions on tying parcels with just ribbon). He’s also yet to finish the Christmas shopping. We were doing very well, then suddenly his sister asked us what we wanted for Christmas, which is lovely, but we’d rather assumed that we weren’t doing adult presents again this year, and so hadn’t bought her anything. Sigh.
I’m not exactly thrilled about going to my parents for six days either, but I’ll manage. And the bed is comfy and cosy, and there’s as much gin as I fancy, and I can go for lots of muddy runs, so it could be Much Much worse. And there’ll be dress shopping….