It’s nearly midnight. I’ve just come to bed to find that my 11 year old son has been on his Xbox when I thought he was asleep. He doesn’t cope very well with being caught out or being in the wrong. Quickly, he tries to push the blame on me. I have no energy or inclination to argue. Instead, I remove one of the wires and tell him that th is will now happen every night. The fact that it frustrates him says it all. I have been very naive and over trusting. Tomorrow I am going have the problem of trying to get him up in the morning so we are not late. He will be grumpy towards everyone which will then set off a row between him and his siblings.
For a fleeting moment I wonder how I am going to manage. After work I’ve been a mum and a carer to Dad. I did some urgent school work until 10.30pm, tidied a little then went to sit with Dad.
We talked about tomorrow’s visit from the respiratory nurse. Dad can’t understand why he is visiting. I tried to explain but it is pretty obvious that Dad does not realise the situation he is in. When he does seem to have an inkling, it produces a further low mood. He said that he wasn’t any good to anyone. I, of course, explained how that was not the case. I’m not sure he bought into it.
I had every intention of waiting for him to go to bed so I could accompany him. Tonight is our first night with out my sisters. However, for the last 30 minutes he has repeatedly told me to go to bed. He said I am making him feel bad. He reassured me that he can manage on his own.
I have come upstairs but, as you can see, have no intention of going to sleep yet. Writing this post is killing some time but also draining me of the little energy I have left.
How will I manage? I know things are only going to get worse. Can I really manage a full time job, three children and a sick father alone? Sure, my sisters are fantastic and are helping as much as they can but the strain and the cracks are beginning to show. They’ve bickered today: at the moment, one is grumpy and irritable the other is tearful and sensitive. Not a good mix.
I’ve just helped Dad to bed. I heard the door and came to the stairs to help. He just kept apologising over and over.
“I’m, so so sorry, love.”
He’s got nothing to be sorry about but he doesn’t believe me.