For the last week I’ve been on holidays and lucky to get an hour or so to myself in the morning to write and gather my senses. This morning I’m trying to return the favour and everything is a little bit later and a lot more four-year-old interrupted.
It’s Easter Sunday morning and my twin boys are chocolate fuelled and hyper; demanding Smurfs (when there’s none on TV) and non-wet building blocks (when they took them all into the bath last night.
I find parenting stressful, I have to say. I love them and they are delightful, but they are constant and noisy and needful. I can get very “touched out” as they often demand to be in constant contact with me. I worry that it’s my fault, and that my bad parenting has somehow resulted in creatures that need so much, have little patience and want my constant attention. Then at other times I tend to think they’re just 4 and that’s what four is meant to be like.
I remember being four. I’m pretty sure I was the centre of my own universe and that I craved constant attention. In fact I remember often feeling a bit short-changed on the attention front, and I was lucky enough to have three siblings to entertain me. I’m not sure that feeling like I lacked parental attention (a feeling that definitely continued into my teens) did me any real benefit. But at the same time, parents do need their own space, and kids need to learn to self-occupy and develop resilience without running to their parents for anything. I don’t know what’s best to do. I just try to make the next best decision in each circumstance. And the best decision for a moment doesn’t necessarily look like the best decision as a parent – maybe it even isn’t – sometimes it’s just the best decision for my current sanity.
And that’s the reason there are two iPads going in the background of this room and I have a little bit of peace to write. And when I’m finished writing, I’ll feel like I got some segment of the day to myself and I’ll be able to attend them (for a certain amount of time) without getting so frustrated that I lose my shit.
And it does get better day by day. They get more reasonable (i.e. you can start to reason with them), and they get more interesting and more interested in stuff. I have to hope that in the long run they’ll see we did our best, and that we’re really all just four humans (or four people trying to emulate humans) doing the best we can to find our star-paths in the world.
But, that wasn’t what I was coming here to write about this morning (although it’s related!). I was wanting to write about exhaustion. I got hit by a sledgehammer of exhaustion yesterday afternoon. I literally had to close my eyes as I felt shaky, weak and thoroughly drained of energy. It hasn’t been happening every day, but definitely fairly frequently.
I’m not entirely sure if it’s related to quitting alcohol and all the lovely lovely sugar that pumps into my blood-stream, or is still a side effect of coming off the beta-blockers I’d been taking for migraine. I think perhaps it might be a combination of both, maybe a bit more the former? I do know that at the start of the year when I stopped drinking, I started eating bags and bags of sugary sweets, laced with popcorn. I’m trying to look after my eating choices a bit better than that this time; I’m certainly not eschewing sugar and the odd coffee I’m taking is currently getting sugar added to it, but yeah, I do wonder if that’s part of it.
It’s hard not to get worried that maybe something bigger is going on, but for the moment, I’m happy enough because it does resolve with eating and a brief nap.
I’ve found that stopping the beta blockers has resulted in a higher energy baseline in general, and maybe I’m using up more than my body has had time to get accustomed to. Hence the sudden crash when I get to a certain point in the day.
I’ve a fasting blood test scheduled for this coming Wednesday – it’s mainly a glucose tolerance test, because of the gestational diabetes I had when pregnant with my boys, but they will also check all the other stuff like iron, thyroid, cholesterol and liver function.
Well, crying children are putting an end to today’s writing session, so … once more unto the breach!