Hard
Sometimes its easy to lose perspective on life. Shit happens, things go wrong, your house is a bomb site, children don't sleep, people die and next thing you know, you're sitting there feeling sorry for yourself and thinking "Fuck my life!". And there is nothing wrong with that. Sometimes we need to give in to those feelings and just go with it.
This last week has been hard. Punky has been unwell and teething, and as a result of that combination she has not slept well.
At all.
It culminated last night in the most heart-breaking behaviour I have ever witnessed from her. I'm putting it down to a combination of sugar, pain and over-tiredness. She woke up just before 10pm after about 40 mins of sleep, having what I can only describe as a tantrum of epic proportions. She was crying and screaming and thrashing and throwing herself around. I was scared she was going to hurt herself. It went on for at least half an hour. Every time I tried to comfort her she would push me away and fight against me and I just had to let her go. She calmed down a little after drinking some milk but she was still crying and very worked up. Eventually she let me pick her up and I sat on the rocker with her, singing and stroking her hair until she calmed down and eventually went to sleep, her little body racked by those occasional sobs and shakes that only extreme crying or hysteria seems to bring.
It was the worst end to what was already an emotionally draining day. My Aunty, who I wrote a little about last week, passed away on the weekend. Her funeral was yesterday. I've been to quite a few funerals now but this was definitely the most emotionally hard one I've been to. And not just because of the pregnancy hormones.
My cousins, her four children, and her husband, Uncle P, all got up and spoke and were just amazing. Despite their immense grief they all got through their speeches, and despite the tears there were smiles as well. Without a doubt the hardest part was when the coffin was leaving. Hearing the sobs of my cousin S (Aunty J's daughter) and my Mum were absolutely heart-breaking.
Afterwards we all headed back to Uncle P's and ate and drank copious amount of sugar and salt and just generally spent time together. It was actually really great to be able to sit around and relax a little, let off some steam and just be together with family, despite the reason behind it. If there is one thing my family knows how to do, its have a wake!
Punky spent the day with Dave's Mum and we didn't get back from picking her up and home until almost 9pm. After Punky's little performance that lasted till 11pm, and then finally being able to drag myself to bed, I was feeling quite sorry for myself and my little family.
But then this morning, my little munchkin, she was in such a good mood. We played in my room and I chased her around and tickled her, and the sound of her laughter definitely helped to lift my spirits. I was reminded of how incredibly blessed I am to call this little ray of sunshine my daughter. How incredibly lucky I am to have such a supportive husband. How amazing my entire extended family is, including my in-laws.
Sure there may be hard days, hard weeks, times when I am so tired and overwhelmed by everything that I just want to curl up in bed and never wake up, but it could be worse. It could be so much worse.
And I need those hard days, hard weeks, to really appreciate the good ones. Without the tough stuff the goodness wouldn't be anywhere near as sweet.
I may not have the worst life but I am allowed to have those days & weeks where I think "Fuck my life". It's ok to sometimes just give in and wallow in the shitness of it all and feel sorry for myself. If I didn't, and I kept it all bottled up, then one day I may just explode in a ball of anger and pain and that wouldn't be good for anyone.
But once I've given in to those feelings for a time there is thankfully always something, some small thing, like Punky's laughter, that helps to put things in perspective, allows me to pick myself up and remember the good stuff and how lucky I am.
And I start to think "Thank God for my life" once again.
Linking this post up for Thankful Thursday with Six by the Bay.
This last week has been hard. Punky has been unwell and teething, and as a result of that combination she has not slept well.
At all.
It culminated last night in the most heart-breaking behaviour I have ever witnessed from her. I'm putting it down to a combination of sugar, pain and over-tiredness. She woke up just before 10pm after about 40 mins of sleep, having what I can only describe as a tantrum of epic proportions. She was crying and screaming and thrashing and throwing herself around. I was scared she was going to hurt herself. It went on for at least half an hour. Every time I tried to comfort her she would push me away and fight against me and I just had to let her go. She calmed down a little after drinking some milk but she was still crying and very worked up. Eventually she let me pick her up and I sat on the rocker with her, singing and stroking her hair until she calmed down and eventually went to sleep, her little body racked by those occasional sobs and shakes that only extreme crying or hysteria seems to bring.
 |
| Front cover of the order of service for Aunty J's funeral |
My cousins, her four children, and her husband, Uncle P, all got up and spoke and were just amazing. Despite their immense grief they all got through their speeches, and despite the tears there were smiles as well. Without a doubt the hardest part was when the coffin was leaving. Hearing the sobs of my cousin S (Aunty J's daughter) and my Mum were absolutely heart-breaking.
Afterwards we all headed back to Uncle P's and ate and drank copious amount of sugar and salt and just generally spent time together. It was actually really great to be able to sit around and relax a little, let off some steam and just be together with family, despite the reason behind it. If there is one thing my family knows how to do, its have a wake!
 |
| The most gorgeous little miracle man, my Aunty J's grandson |
But then this morning, my little munchkin, she was in such a good mood. We played in my room and I chased her around and tickled her, and the sound of her laughter definitely helped to lift my spirits. I was reminded of how incredibly blessed I am to call this little ray of sunshine my daughter. How incredibly lucky I am to have such a supportive husband. How amazing my entire extended family is, including my in-laws.
Sure there may be hard days, hard weeks, times when I am so tired and overwhelmed by everything that I just want to curl up in bed and never wake up, but it could be worse. It could be so much worse.
And I need those hard days, hard weeks, to really appreciate the good ones. Without the tough stuff the goodness wouldn't be anywhere near as sweet.
I may not have the worst life but I am allowed to have those days & weeks where I think "Fuck my life". It's ok to sometimes just give in and wallow in the shitness of it all and feel sorry for myself. If I didn't, and I kept it all bottled up, then one day I may just explode in a ball of anger and pain and that wouldn't be good for anyone.
But once I've given in to those feelings for a time there is thankfully always something, some small thing, like Punky's laughter, that helps to put things in perspective, allows me to pick myself up and remember the good stuff and how lucky I am.
And I start to think "Thank God for my life" once again.
Linking this post up for Thankful Thursday with Six by the Bay.
Comments
I love this post though. Sometimes we do need to just take a moment and feel all our pain and frustration, guilt free.
I remember when my poppet had the biggest tanty of her life in front of the nsw art gallery. She was even hitting her head on the cement. I cld do nothing to console or stop her and when I tried to pick her up or calm her she'd run away screaming. When I finally got her home I started googling for mental conditions ... She was fine, just had had enough. When. I think back I can totally understand a two year old getting jack of pain for teeth or falling over, the word 'no' and being a free little spirit who is constantly controlled. Thank goodness it's only a stage though ... x
Family comes through at the most trialling of times. That in itself is a true blessing.
And poor little Punky! It sounds like she might have had a night terror. Ned used to get them a bit when he was around that age. He wouldn't let me hold him so I would put him on our double bed and lay next to him saying "mummy's here" over and over while he thrashed about until the episode passed. It was such a horrible thing to watch but it always passed.
Hopefully your little Punky won't have another experience like that soon. V.
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