I read a post today about people thinking that other people, particularly bloggers, have perfect lives. It’s an excellent post, I recommend you read it.
So in that spirit, I’ll tell you about how my life feels right now. The hint is in the title.
The car is still off the road – we’ve heard nothing from the garage. Tim will look into that tomorrow, but given we’d forgotten to arrange a tax disc for it, we can’t drive it even if we get it back working. Hohum.
Because of that, the swimming lesson trip yesterday was done on foot. We’re incredibly fortunate that the leisure centre is only a mile away. And that it wasn’t snowing. So toddler in pushchair, baby in wrap and Big alongside we did it in 13 minutes. It really is bitterly cold on the seafront though, and as we popped to Lidl for a bit of shopping afterwards, I think it’s safe to say I got my quotient of exercise yesterday. The day before we’d gone down to see the sea just for some fresh air and nearly frozen ourselves solid in the process.
Today’s success lies in having cooked curry (leftover chicken from the day before, sauce out of a jar) with homemade dahl and having everybody eat something. If you’ve never met Small you’ve no idea what a triumph that is. It has taken several years of very slow process but he is now willing to try foods, not spit them all over the table if he doesn’t like them, and actually admit that unusual things might not be poisonous. Watching him eat curry tonight, granted less than a spoonful, felt like a massive massive step forward.
But that was the only part that felt successful. Most of the day I’ve struggled to focus. My head feels like it’s packed with cotton wool, or maybe marshmallow, and I’m struggling to find the words to finish both spoken and written sentences. (I just sat and stared at the screen trying to locate the words ‘cotton wool’. Which is more ironic than I like, quite frankly.) I’m veering between panic, determination, a focusless anger and a feeling that my head might just pop and the end result is that I’m permanently emotionally exhausted.
And I haven’t been running for days. I don’t run when I know I’m going to be walking lots, so that let Monday and Tuesday out. Then last night something stuck in my back and I had to lever myself up from the table and go and stretch out on the living room floor. At that point my right hip clicked audibly, and painfully, and made me wonder about the wisdom of risking running. I need to run. It’s not that I’m elegant, or energetic, or anything really, but I need that release of exercise.
Thinking about it, I always have. Back when I was a child and then a teen we always had a big dog. I grew up with a Dobermann, and we lived on the edge of moorland, so I could and did walk her, probably before I was 10 years old. Then when she died we got a German Shepherd and I used to walk her. In fact, I used to run with her, so I guess I’ve been running longer than I remember. In my mid teens we got a horse, and that’s plenty of exercise. Walking to the stables, mucking out, riding. At university I took up karate, and practised up to five times a week. (Not that I do things obsessively. Oh no. Not me.) So it’s only since children that I’ve not been fit and active and it’s causing me problems.
I think I’ll run in the morning.
What do you want to bet it’ll snow?
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