So the Easter school holidays have begun, and the days are a bit less stressful. Smiley’s adult programme continues, so I’m still up at stupid o’clock, but the pressure to get my son to school is gone, and I’m hoping to be able to organise some outings for the two of us. Especially as the sun appears to be shining and all is calm.
But first there was St Patrick’s Day. Smiley was at home, except we weren’t at home, as she was invited to take part in a local parade, once again. I *may* have shared most of the photos already, but just in case you missed them, here she is again, showing just what a great day she had.
Well here we go again, another new year and another new term: and that means lots of stress all round, piled on top of all the other things that need attention. So I will keep looking for reasons to be cheerful to remind me that it isn’t all bad. And this week I’m celebrating the little things:
- A lovely relaxed lunch out with my son (having discovered on Monday morning that he wasn’t in fact due to go back to school until Wednesday).
- Shopping with my girls.
- A new mobile phone for Christmas, which is much faster, has a bigger screen, more storage, and a better camera (though I’m still getting the hang of it).
Read more here
It’s that time of year again, when most of us make unrealistic resolutions and then fail to keep them. Not good for our bodies or our minds. So if I make any at all, I try to make them doable, like these four from last year that I mostly achieved.
For 2016, I have just one resolution so far: to start drinking Belgian Beer. What, you say? This is based on good science (apparently) and a book that recommends that we should consume more yoghurt (tick), full fat cheese (tick), dark chocolate (one of last year’s resolutions) and Belgian Beer. It’s called The Diet Myth and I am seriously considering buying it. I’ve mostly stopped drinking wine, but the occasional beer sounds like a great idea to brighten my life.
And I have more reasons to be cheerful too:
Read them here.
Sometimes the death of someone you’ve never even met has a profound effect, and so it was this week with the passing of Andy Nimmo, husband of special needs blogger Steph Nimmo. For the past year, they have both been sharing some inspirational writing about living a good life with cancer and if you want to remember how to celebrate life, I recommend reading Steph’s blog Was This In The Plan.
More reasons here
Hating your life and feeling guilty because you know how lucky you are.
Wanting to talk, but not wanting to bring any of your friends down to your level.
Hiding away at home, even though you know that company lifts your spirits.
Dragging yourself through the days and then feeling worse because you have achieved so little.
Read more here
You have to let her go, said Angel. But it’s easier said than done.
I’d got used to having her Smiley face around the place, two months without any school or placement or respite meant that we did everything together. I enjoy her company, even as she wears me out. It’s lovely to be needed and thanked and appreciated – I don’t get that from a clean floor or a paid bill.
I’m thrilled about her new placement, but anxious too. We said goodbye to the comfortable cocoon of her school, where she knew everyone, and everyone knew her, and the days, weeks and years passed in a predictable routine. This is an opportunity and a fresh start, but she is so disabled by all her challenges, will she make the most of it?
Read more here
There was an advertising feature about carers in an Irish newspaper yesterday. Perhaps you saw it? Perhaps it gave you a nice warm fuzzy feeling reading about that wonderful ‘army’ of 187,000 dedicated carers. Or perhaps, like me, it made you mad.
I am not in any way criticising the family that features in this ad, but it does fit the caring stereotype that society has come to expect.
A kindly, loving, sensible, middle aged women who cares out of love and needs nothing more than the occasional break for a bit of light shopping or drinking tea with friends and crafting Christmas cards.
And that is very admirable, but not all carers are like that.
Not at all.