It’s been a tough week. Not altogether unexpected, when I think about it, but tough nevertheless.
I’ve been pushing myself hard – too hard, I suppose.
I’m in the fortunate position of absolutely loving my job and the simply fabulous adults and not so little people that I get to spend my time with each week. But being a teacher has never been an easy option – especially in Year 6 at this time of the year. I’m determined to do the very best for these amazing kids and prepare them for the onslaught of KS2 SATs in just a couple of weeks.
Then, there’s the other love of my working life – Tropic. It’s there in my head (and my heart) every single second of the day. It keeps the wolf from the door, financially, but more than that, it’s given me a completely different outlook on life. I’ve met some fabulous girls in the process and made some friends that I never expected. It continually takes me out of my comfort zone – doing Pamper experiences, talking to people I’ve never met, making me take my PJs off when I least feel like it! It’s got me through some of the hardest months of my life and given me focus when I needed it most.
And of course, the real love of my life, Daisy-Mae. Since we moved back ‘home’, she’s settled so well. She’s learning to be less anxious, she’s right in the centre of everything that’s going on. She’s joined every club and activity she can think of and she’s really coming out of her shell. Seeing her blossom and grow in confidence every day feels my heart with love and reminds me that she’s one special little lady (I think I may have told you that before, once or twice…).
But, I suppose, when you’ve a list of chronic illnesses, all of the above comes at a price. I don’t do an especially good job of looking after myself. I rarely listen to my body (I often push it harder instead!), I don’t take time to ensure my diet is what it should be, I don’t get enough sleep and I drink far too much wine. So, at some point, I suppose it’s to be expected that the body should just give up.
And that happened on Wednesday! I crashed at tea time and I’ve been in bed ever since. I have a supply of medication, Lucozade and tissues at my bedside. Daisy-Mae has reverted to her carer role (“Mummy, remember to drink lots, take your medicines and get lots of rest” as she went to bed last night), Mum and Dad (and some fab friends) have jumped to my rescue to help with madam, to provide me with aforementioned Lucozade etc and I’m left here feeling cross with myself. Cross (and a little bit resentful) that my body can’t cope with the usual trials and tribulations that life throws at us all, cross that I should know better and cross that I’ve wasted some gorgeous sunshine being stuck in bed…
So, moving forward (because that’s all you can ever do!), I need to eat. I’d say eat better, but just eating would be a good start. As I’ve found out, it’s not possible to live on a chocolate bar each day… I need to drink more (but less wine!). I need to get the occasional bit of downtime.
Apparently, I’m not superwoman. Which is pretty disappointing. So, when you see me doing too much, not eating properly etc, feel free to give me a slap! Only, make it gentle, because right now, I can’t touch my own skin without feeling like it’s on fire!