I’m standing at the kitchen bench this morning making school lunches when it hits me…after nine weeks husband will be back at work tomorrow and I will once again be flying solo…it is a moment of oh crap how am I going to do this? Me, three boys and one teenage girl for goodness knows how long. I stand there knife in hand ready to butter the bread and I suddenly realise I haven’t moved in what feels like hours. I’m frozen with a slight amount of panic and tears well in my eyes. Damn it I say to myself but not as silently as I thought. My husband spins around he is reading the paper; he is here in the kitchen after making a surprise visit home.
What he says. I look at him. Nothing I say. I can’t tell him I am having a moment of doubt that I’m able to do this. After thirteen years of being sure that now I’m unsure.
Quickly I say to myself right, you have two options and its sink or swim. You know how to swim; so at this stage to sink now will be a little embarrassing. You have been doing this thirteen years so what’s the big deal? Deep down I know it is because I’m not feeling well. This flu has got me good. That my biggest fear of becoming ill when husband is away and loosing control somewhat is playing out as we speak. As it is I have already cried more times this last week than I have all year because of this flu but what if it’s not because of that? What if its because I have ‘forgotten’?
I finish making the lunches. With this anxiety if this is what it is comes a feeling of shrinking. I feel small and as I send the kids off to school I feel unsure of myself. Other mums are standing by their cars talking. I don’t won’t the other mothers to see me feeling like this. I come inside make a coffee and I sit. I’m making a plan of attack sort of in my head but why I have never done so before. I’m thinking too much.
I stop thinking.
What exactly is the problem? Why has this even entered into my mind? It has never happened before. It is a little confusing this feeling of being unsure of myself. I don’t get worried about husband going to work. I’m the woman who people frown upon because I joke that I don’t even stop at the airport any more. Some swings he is lucky if I slow down as he steps out the car door.
This ‘feeling’ is foreign to me so why now?
Is it because we have had nine weeks of him being here and it’s only now that my body has decided to have a sick day. Right now I’m tired that’s all and for nine weeks he has been ours. Nine weeks of him helping out with dinner; the yard, tantrums, taxi runs, book readings, school holidays and scraped knees. Nine weeks of noise but then isn’t this why we do the hard yards which when you think compared to others we have it so easy; we work these four long hard weeks so we can have these long lazy stretches at home?
Yes all that is why and my husband is going to work not a war zone. I’m fortunate that way as so many women and families are not.
I have silenced myself answered my own questions.
Bugger this I say. Bugger feeling like this. This is getting me no where.
Nothing in life is easy I mantra to myself. I really do have two options to sink allow this feeling of anxiety to swallow me or swim as I have been for the last thirteen years. Have faith in myself, in our choice, the decisions that we make and to know that I can do anything. Absolutely anything.
The anxiety if that is what it was leaves me as quickly as it came and in its place is a sense of staunch ‘can do’ and as cliché as it sounds and in my best Brittany accent I say to myself as I launch myself out of the chair; I say let’s do this ‘thang’.
xx Deb
