My shitty mood has lifted, and it only took 12
hours. Yesterday, last night, after my head-mashing runs-in with several morons
who are higher up the Management Ladder than myself, I was struggling not to give
in to Despair.
Today, after a good nights sleep (aided by a long
chat with Philippa and then a large bottle of wine) I am calm, settled and enjoying
myself. I’d like to say it’s because I’m a reasonable and reasoned, mature
individual, and that I thought things through, accepted my mistakes, and moved
on, but that’s not true; it’s simply because I’ve spent all day so far with my
son. There may be days where Parenthood overwhelms me and I feel incompetent to
the point of ineptitude, but there are also days when I feel as if someone has
opened a hole in the top of my head and then poured Joy into me until I’m
overflowing with it. Today has been one such day. He has been a stumbling,
gurgling, clumsy, noisy, smelly, human-shaped lump of Perfection, and I have
loved every second I have spent with him. He’s asleep now, and I don’t think
I’m too far behind him on the ‘needing a kip’ ladder. I knew that being a dad
would be exhausting when they’re older, and energetic, and need to be chased
around the garden or played football with, but who would have thought that
crawling along pretending to be a dinosaur, and then
waving various multi-coloured cuddly toys in his face, and then holding him
above my head and pretending to drop him, would also wipe me out?
I have so much to learn, and that’s fine. He’s
teaching me a lot about myself and my life, and sometime when he’s older I
shall thank him.
RC 12-10-19
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