Thursday 31 March 2016

Coming home

I sometimes sit in the car for a second longer that I need to, I take a deep breath then head into the house.

Often I know what I'm walking into, with regular updates, texts usually keep me abreast of the current 'situation'. Most times it is resolved by the time I walk through the door. But the pause in the car is just long enough to put behind the travails of the working day and get my game face on.

Of course the good MrsC is more than able to manage most situations but that doesn't mean that it's easy, pleasant or that it doesn't take it's toll. We made the decision to be parents together though but it is mostly the good MrsC doing the school runs, making tea (dinner for you southerners) and without doubt doing the lion's share of the work. I go out to work and though I enjoy my work I often feel guilty as the text updates come through. I'm lucky my employers appreciate the 'uniqueness' of my family and allow me the flexibility to take calls as and when I can. It's appreciated but reading and hearing incidents unfold from a distance is a uniquely stressful experience. There's rarely anything constructive I can do, if you've ever tried to regulate a dysregulated child by phone you'll appreciate it's like trying to put a pair of leggings on an angry octopus, an exercise in madness.

Of course saying that its hard for me seems churlish and selfish so perhaps I shouldn't admit to it. Managing it on the ground is of course stressful, upsetting and exhausting and often MrsC doesn't inform me of the trials and tribulations of the day until I get home.

I'd rather know what's going on but the impotence that it brings is debilitating at times knowing that your loved ones are caught in some illogical fracas, a dysregulated child and a struggling parent.

I want to know but I don't want to know. Sometimes MrsC tells me sometimes she doesn't.

So, I sit in the car and take a breath and get my game face on, ready for what might be, has been or is to come.

No comments:

Post a Comment