It’s Friday. It’s the first week back into some kind of routine and thus my inner clock is compelling me to shut out the sounds of Raa Raa the annoying little Lion in the background and type away reflecting on the past week.
First up: it’s January and so far (all of 6 days in) I don’t feel like a frozen tree frog. For the first time in I don’t know how long.
I’m keeping half an eye on this and don’t want to get too excited but it seems that maybe the SAD lamp, reduced sugar, boys sleeping more, regular running and who knows what have made this January feel approachable. We are still hibernating each evening with bed and Greys Anatomy winning once the small ones are asleep, but there is a lightness in my head that feels new for this time of year.
I say all this with a pinch of salt as that could all change tomorrow. For now though I notice and I’m glad.
We’ve had a pretty good week, all things considered. Life is now lived against the backdrop of the lovely husbandface’s illness. He’s able to focus and interact for about 20 min out of every 4 hours. Adjusting to that has made up most of our week. I am so sad my favourite and best is so struck down like this. I long for his mind to be free and to heal well. I pray this time out will bring change and hope. If you pray please join with me. I’m not going to go into much detail here as it’s his life and not mine to share publicly. But please do message me if you want to know how to pray.
Thankfully there are things he can do. He has sat with the boys during lunchtime watching, so I have got out for a run in the day a couple of times. He can also sit with them at bedtime so I can escape to run then as well. (Or just slump on the sofa and not be touched by a small person for a bit).
I’m still running and still connecting with God. This means the week is manageable. Endorphins and awareness of being loved massively are keeping me sane right now. Me and the boys have enjoyed bumbling around in parks, going to a farm, meeting up with friends and doing many puzzles together. I am really enjoying their increasing love for each other and imaginative play. They are uber funny (and irritating) and I’m genuinely loving hanging out with them at the moment.
The wonderful Jo (one of son1’s Godmum’s) took them both on Thursday morning and I managed a beautiful stomp on the sunny ice cold downs. I felt like skipping over the hills, as light as a feather without small boys in tow. It was beautiful and another gift to get me through the week.
I’ve got another blog post brewing about my word for the year (yeah it’s a thing…) which I’ll leave for another time. For now though I’m grateful for getting to the end of this week. I’m grateful that Mum and Dad coming tomorrow will make Saturday feel like a Saturday and not just another day of me with the boys. I’m grateful for all the friends who’ve loved us so well this week and I’m grateful that my brain is able to ask God what he has for us in the midst of this and isn’t just slumping into it’s usual despair.
And there we go.
This week. Mostly brought to you with the backdrop of two small boys shouting the words to Let it Go constantly.