I confess, I lied.
All week, I lied.
The last time I had such blatant disregard for the truth was eight years ago on Sam’s second birthday. Being a little keen, I pre-order thank you cards in anticipation of the gifts Sam would receive. They said,
“Thank you for my present, I had a brilliant birthday.”
The truth was Sam had a stinking birthday that year. We were woken at five in morning by a muffled sound snaking through the baby monitor, as it spewed out the noise of Sam fitting. So Sam’s second birthday was spent in hospital, after he had suffered a long seizure that the doctors struggled to control.
My most recent barefaced lie happened during half term. I set up my email to say that I was away having a great time with my family and I wouldn’t be able to respond to any emails.
But… that was a big fat lie.
It’s true, I was with my family, but the ‘having a great time’ part was less accurate. I was sick, more sick than I’d felt in a long time. I had a cold, cough and fevers. There are two things that made this sorry state of affairs even worse.
#1 we were on holiday
#2 my husband and I had decided to break one of the golden rules of parenting…
Don’t both get sick at the same time!
In the event that you too break this golden rule, I have one piece of advice for you – make sure you are the one that is most sick. Because if you aren’t then you’ll still be the one running around looking after everyone.
The week became a bit of a wrestle. The moment a child cried or needed attention, we would glance in each other’s direction and have a stare off,
“I must be more sick than you. It’s your turn to do the kids.”
We were on holiday with my parents but, unfortunately, my dad was unwell for part of the time too, leaving my poor mum running around for us all.
I don’t have that many photos from our holiday, partly because we left early. There are even fewer pictures that I can share here because of our day-long bed-hair and the inability to get out of our pyjamas. However, if I ever get round to making a 2016 album it will include these family photos…
The above family walk lasted a whole thirty minutes and captures the only time I straightened my hair or put on make-up.
…and I was only in the swimming pool for about fifteen minutes (my parents sorted the kids out before and after), then I shivered the whole way back to the lodge.
But these photos will take pride of place in my February half-term memories because even when things feel disastrous it is always worth focusing on the glimmers of sun that break through the dark clouds. I find it easy to remember the grey clouds, so I take photos of the sun and all the beautiful ways it colours and transforms the horizon because these are the things that I want to recall. These are the images I choose to remember.
Oh no! I hope you are both feeling better now. I admire your ability to see the rays of sunshine at the dark times. Take care. X
Rachel, I love this blog for 3 reasons (and I am so sorry about your week – you know I was on the other end of the text trying not to swear on your behalf). Firstly, even those of us who don’t face the challenge of parenting a child with complex disabilities and needs can relate to the ‘who’s the most sick competition’. I always lose any sense of grace in the midst of that particular scenario! Secondly, and again, I know you’ve had absolutely terrifying holidays, but your blog reminded me about a family holiday I had in France 9 years ago, having received news the previous week that threatened to derail me completely, and then arriving in the middle of the night, in the middle of no-where with a husband that needed immediate hospital admission. It was one of the most difficult times in my life. But in exactly that place, I noticed that in spite of it all, there was always something good in each day – the sun breaking through the clouds – and this observation saved my sanity that summer and has stayed with me ever since. And lastly, the lies! I think the most common lie that many of us tell is “I’m fine”; but you know, with people who don’t really care about us, I think that’s sometimes ok – as long as we tell the truth to the people we trust and love. X