Thursday 7 February 2019


It’s perhaps the short days in the long month after Christmas or the days where day and night are barely distinguishable but my thoughts have drawn tight around me. Claustrophobic thoughts precipitated by days of child induced challenge layered on what seems like years of challenge. 

What a grim post to write this is after writing less. Don’t worry I’m sure I can pull this round.  

I’d hoped to write some profound insight or witty anecdote but they seem a little illusive right now.  I’ve had lots of thoughts for sure and I needed to put somewhere but none of them seemed to be complete thoughts, half-finished blog posts littered my mind refusing to be shepherded into neat blogs. 

The impact of early adversity seems to remain persistent in some of my children’s lives though ever evolving in form and shape as it clings on through middle childhood into early adolescence then young adulthood. I’m not a fatalist but there feels like a brooding inevitability about some of paths we’re heading down that I see my peers navigate with their children. I’m not worried just getting ready in my thinking and trying to make sense of my thinking. 

Then I went on a three day NVR practitioners course and it made me question myself and my capacity to parent. Ideas around parental presence made me think if I had any left and whether I could be bothered.  I’m pretty sure that’s the wrong attitude, pretty sure I wasn’t that good a delegate. 
Lots of thoughts and feelings I couldn’t get to the bottom of. 

So much stuff floating around my mind. 

A good friend thought he’d help me last year by describing me as a melancholic in a job reference for a promotion. I didn’t get the job and in fact lost the job I already had but it made me think what he meant so I looked it up. One description of melancholy is a ‘pensive sadness’. That how January has felt for sure there’s so much sadness about all of this but that’s ok and I’ve reconciled myself to being a melancholic.

I’ve taken to drinking non alcoholic beer, it’s all part of my plan to wean myself onto real beer when I’m in my 60’s. MrsC and @gayadoptindad think I’m a lightweight. 

But then in the middle of all the physical darkness of January and friction a peace descended unexpectedly and I cupped my daughter’s face in my hands and she let me. It wasn’t a PACE moment squeezed out like reluctant toothpaste at the end of the tube or planned act of kindness or restoration. It just happened and as I looked in her eyes they held my gaze and I said ‘I love you’ and she smiled as I kissed her cheek. 

To be honest it made me sadder for all the times we don’t have that, but it also sparked a little hope. A little hope goes a long way and there is a long way to go. 

Then today it was light a little later and I thought perhaps the future is a little brighter.  

Spring is coming. 

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