The Weekend

There’s a cyclone heading to NZ, the final bit of it anyway.  Obviously I don’t want any damage done to my beautiful country or anyone hurt.  But its a good thing.  And here’s why. Generally when you see someone at the start of the week, they ask, how was your weekend?  What did you do?  When you’ve spent the entire weekend in bed, not showering and avoiding your family, you don’t really feel able to admit that to anyone.  Strangers, friends, etc. So bad weather is a great excuse to say, not much really, because of the weather.  I’m guilty of being ashamed to admit that I can’t tell the truth.  I’m ashamed that people will look in horror at me if I admit the truth.  The truth is that I don’t want to be around my family.  I don’t want to talk to, or see anyone.  So bad weather suits me.  Its the perfect excuse to hide away and then I don’t have to lie when anyone asks me what I did over the weekend. Well, apart from the lack of shower bit and not being able to be around the kids – I generally omit that!

You see, during the week, my husband leaves at the crack of dawn. I have to somehow against an almost physical force get up and get the four kids ready. Feed them, drop them off.  Unless its my youngest boy’s day off preschool, in which case its ‘our day.’

The truth is, I’m not a natural mother.  When I’m ‘well’ or ‘functioning normally’ however you want to put it. You don’t see me floating down the stairs greeting my children with kisses and making breakfast and freshly squeezed orange juice.  We are no advert for cornflakes.  They don’t leave the house groomed to within an inch of their lives. They don’t jump out of my 4X4 with a ‘cheerio Mummy’ and a wave and join the rest of the lemmings. And I drive back home to iron my husband’s shirts and make dinner. I couldn’t be further from a Stepford Wife on my best day!

On a typical day, I rush down the stairs to play peace maker, I tidy the house from their breakfast mess which looks like university students have had a party.  I’m lucky they’re wearing matching shoes when they get ready for school! My nine year old is going on 15 and giving me such attitude, my 7 year old is completely quirky, she’s great, I love her to pieces, she has her own unique style which seems to work, my 5 year old is a total princess.  And my son is so laid back – I got real lucky there! Its a mash of different personalities.  We run late.  We all blame each other.

In my low days, I just have that much less energy.  The house just seems that much messier and the kids that much noisier. The driving that much harder. The drop off that much more pleasant.  And when its my son’s day off, we usually do things together.  At the moment, its more, hanging around the house stuff.

So when the weekend comes, I have no desire to get up. Usually one of the kids comes in around 5/6 am. That’s usual.  Its about breakfast, an ipad, an argument, something that absolutely must be dealt with at that precise moment. My husband and I negotiate for a few more minutes. Play with the ipad, watch television, eat Doritos for breakfast.

After that precious extra hour of sleep, I usually ask my husband get up. Or rather demand it. On a ‘normal’ weekend, I would get up, get on with chores. Maybe even make plans. But not now. Now I am tired. I want to be alone – to quote the famous phrase. I am not required to drive. To organise.

My husband has worked all week and is entitled to a rest. But he can’t. The children need to be looked after. But one of us needs to take responsibility.

My weekend I will give in. I will sleep. I am thoroughly exhausted. I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to get dressed. I don’t want to hear noise or watch television. I can’t read because my concentration is so poor. Note the mistakes in my blog. I’ve left them. Its important you see what its like. The mind is mud.

So the storm is my excuse this weekend.

On Monday I see the Pscyhiatrist again to review this new medication. Its already been increased we’ve talked over the phone. 50mg was not helping me sleep. so I’m already at 100mg. My sleep still isn’t restful.

So weekends I dread because I although I can give in, which is my selfish sin. I also let down my entire family. I fail as a Mother. As a Wife and as a person. But that sleep, that need to sleep is so powerful…


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