September 20, 2012 by talkaboutyork
Maybe it’s the cumulative effect of weeks of living out of boxes, covered in dust and generally feeling grimy. Maybe it’s the delayed effect of all the big changes that have happened in our lives recently. Whatever the reason, I’ve been a little emotional today. I can’t even blame PMT.
My littlest boy is having a wobble about school. He is our horizontal laid back child. He took to his new school like the proverbial duck to water. After the first week there, he declared it a most marvellous school and loved it infinitely more than his old school.
The second week he decided he wasn’t that keen and that his old school was better.
This week he has begged to be home schooled.
I think the change is just catching up with him. That coupled with a realisation that school involves having to do some work. Every morning this week we’ve had clinging and sobs and drama. And today he ran out of the classroom after me – he’s done this several times now. The first few times his teacher was empathetic. This time not so much. I think she’s trying the tough love approach – which he no doubt needs. But seeing him so upset got me upset.
And I’ve been on the cusp of tears all day. In fact, earlier today I was reading this poem and couldn’t make it through to the end without having a little sob (it is one of the most lovely poems I’ve ever read admittedly).
This afternoon older son refused to go to football club. Football is his most favourite thing ever. He said he was tired after having spent all day building a viking ship (understandable really) but it was another thing that just made me sigh and feel weary.
When I got home, the house was filled to the rafters (literally) with builders determined to make as much dust as they possibly could. I can’t explain how dispiriting it is to dust and hoover and mop for hours only to have 2cms of thick dust cover every available surface, including your newly laundered washing that requires a trip to the laundromat to get done, within 5 minutes. And I’ve tried to ignore it and not bother cleaning, but it makes life impossible – you can’t put anything down without lifting it up to find it caked in white, grey or brown dust.
I have plenty to be thankful for and happy about. But I guess everyone is allowed to feel a bit blue every now and then. So when I found this little inspirational nugget, I thought it very apt. I shall read it again and drink more wine and tomorrow the world will seem a brighter place, even with dust to dull it.