The Climb

I think I am actually starting to lose my marbles you know!? I can hear the voice inside my head (It has a Scottish accent?) telling me that I’m not actually in control of anything that’s going on in my life. Let’s start at the beginning…

My kids decide what time I get up, usually pre-6am thanks to their unforgiving skill of making it through the day unscathed on less than 7 hours sleep. Geordie needs a high protein lunch ready for work by 7:15am. Yes, he can do this himself but as he will ask me every minute detail about what he needs to do (What can I have tuna with? How long does pasta take? How do I cook porridge?) it’s easier to just do it myself. The kids/monsters must be fed before 8am, similar repercussions of a Gremlin if this timetable is overlooked, the dog needs to be fed and walked and all of this is before 9am. Somewhere within all the chaos I should eat something, shower, get dressed and breathe.

Postman Pat

Postman Pat (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Tomorrow is going to be different, I am having a day all to myself. I am going for a consultation with a surgeon/magician who is going to fix my back once and for all. This is going to be a monumental day for me and my 7 month relationship with my broken spinal disc, he’s totally getting me down, suffocating my hopes and dreams so I’m calling it off. Ordinarily Geordie would drive me to the hospital which is about 50 minutes away, however I am going to take the Postman Pat bus that takes….wait for it……2 hours 14 minutes to get even close to the hospital. I will see the lovely surgeon/wizard and then happily skip back down to the bus stop and take the return journey through the wandering dry stone walled lanes of deepest darkest Cumbria, arriving home way past dinner time.

I need to switch off from being a wife/mum, most of the time just half an hour to sit and watch Eastenders or walk the dog with my ipod set to ‘blaring’ without thinking about changing the baby, or washing uniforms, is enough for me. I absolutely adore my girls and Geordie but I don’t think I would be human if I didn’t need some Me time just a couple of times a month? My friend Caz throws all her energies into Boxercise and climbing bloody big mountains as her way of chilling out from her busy schedule to a mum of four. Another friend dedicates one evening a week to staring at naked people, oh sorry I mean life drawing classes (Which involves staring at naked people) and reliably informs me she strolls home feeling thoroughly relaxed and much more confident about her aging body shape!

So in short, I have decided to sit on a public bus for approximately four hours tomorrow for the sake of being left well alone with my ipod, my kindle and a packet of Minstrels that I’ve managed to hide from Geordie for the last three days behind the biscuit tin in the cupboard. Can I get a whoop?

 

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