The family/work balance
would be awesome. Awwwwesome if I could just pull myself together and.stop.crying. Is it tiredness at getting back into the work/life sacrifice? Sorry, routine. Is it relief at being out of the house? Is it because of the thinking, "OK, I'm back but I really need a better way of getting here", but that every way I think about is just on a sliding scale of suckful to really suckful? Is this is? Is this how I'm going to feel for now until forever. (And yeah, I know it's not forever but move over, I was wallowing in this vat of mud first.) Is it because I'm stressed at wondering how can I pump a decent amount of milk a decent number of hours after his last feed for the day so he has fresh milk the next day, but if I stay up to wait for that decent number of hours to pass I am.a.mess. Well, an even bigger mess. Things that have made me cry this week: - the kids - traffic - the kids - money - the return of "mummy, you're as beautiful as a swan and a princess" - Felix's standard line to me when I am working. - money - traffic - that point when you get a good run and think "yes" only to turn the slight bend and see four long, non-moving lanes of cars. Cars that are way nicer than yours. - crying - Jasper's, Oscar's, Felix's. - Felix's hip - which he hurt again (third time it's been this bad), could not bear weight on by Wednesday but got the all clear from x-rays and a GP. - Oscar's schooling. Particularly when Chef relyed a messge to me from his teacher telling me to relax, that we'll just take one term at a time and that he is doing great. - When I discovered Oscar must have had an 'accident' at school as I (re)hung the washing on the line and found a pair of school shorts that are not ours. - Jasper's crying - the harried "oh dear Lord all hope is lost" crying, that he's perfected in the car this week. - the kids - money - Olympic medal presentations - absolute tragedies - TV commercials - put anything, ANYTHING! here _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ This afternoon I think I had what would be called an anxiety attack, in that it involved not being able to get a decent sized breath, sweating, crying and mild shaking for oh, about two hours. I've had two big cries since and am pretty resigned to the fact I'm going to call Dr J on Monday with a, "I think I need to come and see you a bit sooner than expected" kinda call. And that just makes me want to cry all over again.