After an uber productive day in the office, I get my Water Babies t-shirt on to go and do an event in Bedford. I put full make up on so as to not scare people away, go to school with Lovely Bloke to see teacher re W’s progress and then go to set off for Bedford. I think I’m mother and worker of the year – I’m having my cake and eating it.
Then there’s screaming. And I mean full blood curdling screaming. It’s E. He’s trapped his little finger in the gate. Well and truly crushed it. He’s shaking. It’s not good. So I follow them to our NHS destination of choice. And although there’s a wait, they are so kind to him. And us. He’s very unhappy, crying and shaking and all that goes with it.
I’m upset too. Because by the time I get home, I’ve missed a work thing and because I can’t prevent things from happening to my children. I’m sat here, mascara everywhere, in a tshirt that the boys think gives them carte blanche to touch my boobs – because the logo has pictures of swimming babies with it. Still feeling upset.
So I’m just putting it out there that although I often have a great life and can juggle things, sometimes I can’t. What I do know is, that as my little person sits next to me, watching Iron Man, I’m making progress though because this time last year I would have gone to work, cried all the way there, done it and come home feeling like rubbish. This time, I’ve missed work, and feel rubbish for letting a friend down. But this is my year of getting the balance right. And I’ve done the right thing by that measure.
So why do I feel so bad about it?
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