The husband looked after the boys this morning, because I had an appointment with my work coach.
She didn't show up for the meeting.
Mmmmm.
At least I had free coffee in the waiting room, and 30 minutes of quiet reading time.
No Mini-Me interruptions.
Much needed after my horror-day yesterday.
Son#1 went to swimming lessons, and I kind of lost it in the dressing room.
It was hot in there, Son#1 refused to climb down from a cupboard so I could zip up his rain coat (strange but true - for your C-diploma in swimming, you need to wear a raincoat...), Son#2 grabbed the new Future Planet Playmobil car that we bought for #1 for his birthday, who then screamed blue murder, and then #3 bit me, hard, on the behind.
Charming.
There was another parent and quiet child in the dressing room.
It's bad when there are witnesses to one's meltdowns.
This morning, they play well together, intermittently.
But I'm grateful for small reprieves, I promise you.
My dad is in hospital still, and will be for the foreseeable future.
He's lost quite a bit of muscle tone from being immobile for the past 10 days.
The physiotherapist is training his neck and back muscles so he can start sitting up again.
Another man is sharing his room now - one who had a brain tumour, had it removed, and is now quite confused.
He had animated conversations with my mother, who played along.
My poor dad - when he wakes up, he might think that he's ended up in the mad house.
My mother secretly gave him rehydration sachets to boost his electrolytes (which were all too low).
The difference is dramatic.
Within 10 minutes, my dad was lucid, wide-eyed, and calm.
Amazing.
Trust your instincts.
.
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