Boys will be boys

I’ve not ventured out much since my ‘breakdown’ (I need to come up with a nickname for him – it is definitely a him- because ‘breakdown’ is a painful reminder somehow. ). I don’t want to see people I know and to have to explain or answer questions, even well-meaning ones. I’ve managed a few trips to the shops but I’ve generally gone when and where I feel I won’t be seen.

What this has also meant however, is that apart from one day with their dad my children have been at home. My side of the house (my dad lives in the other half) is not big. I’ve got one open plan room with a kitchen one end with a table in the middle and a sofa and TV at the other. Upstairs, we take up four of the bedrooms with dad in the fifth. The boys are in the two box rooms and my daughter is in the slightly bigger but not quite double sized room.

I will get to the point. My house is not big and there is little escape from each other. We live in a semi-rural area: there are no other children as far as I know. There’s no park or play area.

For my dad and I, this is fabulous. It is a very quiet place to live. We are surrounded by fields and trees. I know how I lucky I am, even if they are developing one end of the road with a new estate (grrr).

For my kids, I suppose it is a different situation. They don’t ‘play out’ with other kids. They don’t ‘call round’ to their friends’ to socialise. They have the garden, sure, but either way they are stuck with each other 24/7.

Today, my beautiful boys are grating on my last nerve. They cannot be in the same room with each other without wrestling/jumping on each other etc etc. Sure they laugh. Sure it’s fun at first. But it always, always ends in tears. A misplaced elbow or kick. Then there is usually a bit of retaliation followed by some crying and complaining. And I see it coming, every time.

But of course, it doesn’t matter what I say or how I say it. They carry on regardless. Picture two lion cubs or something, rolling about, pulling and grabbing each other.

I don’t know if this is typical of boys (I don’t remember my daughter and son being like this before my youngest was born) or whether they are sick of being in the house. Probably both. But it is hard work. Particularly when I feel like I am being ignored.

Which sort of brings me back to work. I could go back on Monday but need to see the doctor in the next few days. I’m two minds. I’m certainly better than I was but am not 100%. Could work be what I need to push me back to me or will it tip me over the edge again? Can I cope with misbehaving teenagers, stressed teachers and disbelieving parents at the moment? Or will the eager faces of my Year 7 pupils be enough to melt the remaining darkness away?

And then I think, if you have to debate it then you’re not ready.

I know I want to discuss my medication with doctor and hope they can prescribe something that doesn’t turn me into an exhausted whale. And if they can, there is change over to consider.

Now would be a good time to go back as everyone has been off for two weeks so I will not feel so isolated when I go back.

My mind is wrestling like my two boys. Hopefully it will stop without the crying this time.


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