Feeling anxious

For all my complaining about work and the bundles of stress it delivers, it does pay towards groceries, petrol, medical aids.
I have now been mysteriously ill for nigh 8 months. 
When I hit the 12-month mark, my salary will take a 30% cut.
But first, I also have a temporary addition to my contract that will end in August.
There goes 20% of my income.
I'm worried.

On the one hand, I'm getting all Wayne Dyer-ish and feel happy, giddy trepidation as this is an exciting leap into the unknown, but on the other hand the lack of money worries me greatly with lots of medical costs looming.

I feel quite stuck between Hell and Damnation.
Facebook (always bloody horrible), shows friends cycling and smiling and being blooming content, but this breeds malcontent in me.
Upward comparisons are usually crap.
But it does feel as if everyone is on the move, and that I have fallen into a deep ditch somewhere along a dirt road.

Oh well.


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Jungle Gym

The boys' school was closed due to teacher training.

A tough day it was.

Sons #2 and #3 were energetic, to kill it with kindness.

And yet it continues.

I'm fed up with my own voice now, and I'm all out of wine to compensate for this travesty.

As I write, Son#3 is climbing over the husband while Son#2's loud, booming voice mixes with the thwock-sound of the ball he is continuously kicking.

I chucked fertilizer on the lawn, then new grass seeds.

Then a sprinkler to water it all.

It might just grow.

You never know.

I'm sorting through laundry and washing what we're keeping (9 bin liners filled with 15 years' worth of yellowed laundry left the house yesterday).

Why do we hold onto things?

I desperately want to think only of my current needs, forget about always planning for some unknown might-never-happen future.

What's the point anyway?

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Li'l Boy Wonder and I

Son#3 is taking a few days off school.

The poor kid is TIRED.

Not sure if this was a good idea in retrospect.

He talks a lot and does daft things like unrolling WC rolls, changing from day clothes to pajamas and back again, asking for pears but never, ever eating them.

But he's cute, and if you're cute, you get away with a lot of things.

In the background, I washed things.

My boss phoned me and there were awkward silences which I didn't feel like filling up.

I discovered a multitude of grey hair.

I had a wee meltdown and left the poor husband to feed the horde so I could go read my trashy novel.

Tomorrow the team manager will drop by.

I've been chewing my bottom lip for a week or two.

Something is chasing me, and I think it is time.

It's running out.

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Father's day

The boys were forgiving of my flu and sleepiness.

We didn't quite make it out of our pajamas yesterday.

And we had a slightly unequal distribution of energy (as in: I slept on the couch while the boys ran amok).

I got pansies from Son#3, from a pot full of deep purple pansies growing by the back door.

I get twigs, flowers, weeds and leaves every day.

Even rocks.

I felt better today - I even washed my hair (woohoo!), which is a good sign of a good day.

The boys handed over their Father's day presents when the husband returned from his reunion weekend away.

Son#2 had hidden his gift, forgotten where he'd put it and it still hasn't appeared.

I'll never get used to my dad being gone.

A busy week waits for us.

Friends Monday and Tuesday.

A return to the GP to evaluate Son#2's lungs.

A visit from my team leader from work.

Art lessons, kids' parties, groceries and a philharmonic concert with a friend on Friday night.

Busy busy busy.

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Just my Panda and I

Playing games in my bed at 6 a.m.

It plays the same tune over and over and over.

Some punching noises thrown in.

My night was short and uncomfortable.

The day will be better, I'm sure.

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Good friend

Thank the gods for good friends.

My friend Elma dropped by with peonies (my favourite flower), good cheer and true companionship.

Meanwhile, my latest blood tests show low Vitamin D and B12 and a streptococcus infection.

I went to speak to the GP this morning.

She's referring me to an academic hospital for a second opinion.

Sigh.

Our weekend ahead is a toughie: the husband has a reunion with former colleagues.

Son#2's asthma meds make him contrary and I have a nasty flu.

Son#2 falls asleep easily, thankfully.

Son#1 sleeps with me when the husband is gone.

I wonder when the day will come when he'll shun me.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

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Dordrecht

Dordrecht, a.k.a. Little Amsterdam, but then with quiet streets.

We went to a great restaurant (Finn's) with great food, wine and the best company.
A wonderful evening!

Son#2 crawled into my bed at 4 a.m. whilst coughing his little lungs out, and to spare the husband's needed rest, I went back to Son#2's bed with him.
Son#3 sang us awake again, going through his entire repertoire of show tunes.
We're off to see the GP this morning to check Son#2's lungs.
And then a party to go to for Son#3, art class for Son#1.
Groceries and sunshine.


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Hypercriticality, but loved

An anniversary.

Flowers and wine delivered by a friendly lady from my husband.

That's never happened to me before.

Tonight, dinner in Dordrecht.

Despite my cantankerous-ness, my husband actually loves me.

He thinks I'm the bee's knees.

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Big Ol' Slow Down

I've started to see a bio-therapist who told me that my health issues originate in my bowels.
I'm willing to try anything.

The husband goes for runs in the woods and the countryside often.
He runs faster and faster, while I'm slowing down, pained and stiffening up, and feeling an out-of-character resentment because of it.
Half the time I feel like a pouty four year-old: 'I also want to do that'.

The kids got a new playhouse where they like to play all day, even eating lunch inside the hut and then lying in the dirt that was once a lush lawn.

Later, we'll drive to the in-laws' to pick up Son#1 who went for a sleep-over.
Even at nearly 10, he still gets homesick, bless.

But, inevitably, there will be the standard explosive adjustment period this afternoon: No longer the centre of my mother-in-law's universe, but returning to the fold as one child out of three.

Life requires adjusting, adjusting, adjusting & a good dose of compromise.


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Evil, evil

We do try our best, you know.

Son#3 anxiously gives incessant kisses as soon as he senses anger building in me.

Son#2 gets up angry, gets dressed angry  goes to school angry... you get my drift, don't you?

Son#3 is pubescent: how dare we tell him that you can't wear shorts when it's 10 degrees outside??

And you have to actually STUDY for tests?!?!

Preposterous!!

The husband struggles with a gazillion to-do lists.

And I just struggle.

Period.

Meanwhile, we are preparing for the summer holiday.

We are exchanging homes with a family in Bretagne, which means effectively, that it is FREE.

Being cheapskates, this appeals to us greatly.

A social utopian match made in heaven.

The exchange economy rocks.

But it does mean that we have to actually CLEAN the house, shuffling shit into my art studio where it will be out of sight.

And then there is work which doesn't go with physical pain and increasing stiffness.

I, dear reader, am turning into an ironing board.

Who would have guessed?

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