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Not sure it will

Temporary farmers field lake is still going strong and still delivering. Kind of want it all year round. Wonder if my hosepipe will reach that far….

I’m not sure it will.

I was doing my morning torture ritual. Set the alarm to go off while it’s still dark. Exercise and then let the real torture begin. Yoga. Trying to follow the helpful and really nice instructions.

“To extend this pose why don’t you just take those knees just a bit lower…”

I’m not sure they will.

“This is a scrumptious hip opener why don’t you just hold it for another 10 seconds…”

I’m not sure I have the will.

“Try to breathe in through your nose to the count of 7 and then breathe slowly out to the count of 8.”

I’m not sure my lungs will.

“Now try to touch the ground with the outside of your left knee while twisting your body as far you can to the right.”

I’m convinced it will not do that without rupturing my spine.

“While keeping your right leg off the ground cradle your left thigh with both arms, start to rock.”

If you count going into catatonic shock as rocking, then I can…

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 69 Comments

Unsettling

It’s been a seriously grey day. Heavy rain due within a few hours. When it’s like this you can’t see where the road ends up. You end of questioning your judgement. On your own it can be deeply unsettling.

Unsettling is a term I’ve become used to over the last 3 years. When my partner left this world it was a massive shock to my system (understatement of the year). For years I had got used to that wise voice guiding me through the world. The wise guide on life, on parenting, on everything. Suddenly life was uncertain. Now I was map reading on my own. Trying to navigate life and Aspergers felt like walking an increasingly thin tight rope without a safety net. Initially my approach was trying to make decisions that I thought my partner would make. Never going to work. We were different people with different takes on life. It was down to me to own this. Take responsibility. But it’s easier said that done.

Three years later it’s still easier said that done. Grief tries to rob you of your confidence and self esteem at a time when you are your lowest ebb. You have probably just lost your guiding light. Everything is stacked against you.

So again this weekend another crisis of confidence. Been many of these. Am I handling the school situation correctly. Should I be more forceful? An I being to pushy? Am I getting this badly wrong like most things. How can I be trusted with this when I can’t sort my own life out. Basically I’m out of my depth here. It’s a deeply unsettling feeling which sadly is not restricted to me. Too many live with this. In my case this leads to an initial overthinking of the situation, then the mind keeps focusing on the negatives (the possible ways I could mess this up), next comes the crisis of confidence which leads to a spell of depression. Well at least I’m predictable.

But the bottom line is that it IS DOWN TO ME. No one else is here. So I might think that I’m the wrong person to do this but I am the ONLY person available to do this. So it’s time to just try to keep moving forward. Move forward even though the path has disappeared. Hoping that one day the fog will clear. Then is the time to judge who bad my judgement has been.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 50 Comments

Sherlock’s Yorkshire Canon

Last night we sat down to watch a couple of episodes from the wonderful Sherlock TV series. One of which was the Hound of The Baskervilles. Or as my helpful word checker wants to autocorrect to – the Hound of the Basketballs – that would be a slam dunker of a book. It is the episode where Holmes and Aspergers are specifically referenced. When Lestrade talks about the great detectives awful people skills Watson specifically mentions Aspergers. I could see no apparent reaction from our son.

However later the following was said

“I know it helps explain Sherlock’s character and his abruptness with others. And it’s kinda nice that the we get a hero with autism. But people will start to think that we are all brilliant, unfeeling and very very odd. Definitely psychotic. One day we will get a character who is just in the middle.”

He is so right. It’s called a spectrum for a reason. Labels just don’t fit. The media focus on the extreme ends but hardly ever look at the middle. But that’s the media and entertainment for you. It’s like when we crashed into the world of single parenting, single father parenting. I remember having a similar conversation

Why do so many movies and TV shows depict the single dad as a suicidal drinker obsessed with dating sites and clearly unable to cope with at least one wild child who has gone bad and needs saving.

Currently sat here with a herbal tea and listening to classical music. That’s not going to make for an interesting movie. Anyway back to Sherlock. We sat enjoying the episode when two thoughts struck me.

ONE: Sherlock was one of my partners favourite TV shows. We are watching her DVDs. She should be sat next to our son enjoying the experience. Life is not fair.

TWO: Looking round at the room. It’s a mess. She would kill me.

So this morning before the dog walk into the strangely blue skied Yorkshire countryside I had a major cleanup. Even put the Sherlock DVDs neatly back in the box. Then on the walk I almost could here her voice saying ‘stop taking so many photos’ so I only took the one this morning. Rather than snap away I looked at the view, imagined a demon hound stalking Dartmoor and I wondered what a Yorkshire themed Sherlock would sound like.

Ferret of the Baskervilles

A study in rhubarb

A scandal in Barnsley

The adventure of the missing Yorkshire Pudding

The adventures of the crooked Lancashire man

The adventures of the Yorkshire Terriers Main.

As much as I love Yorkshire thank god Sherlock was based in London.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 6 Comments

More Hair Disasters

In the long line of parenting skills I’m sadly lacking, hairdressing is near the top. This week witnessed another hair disaster. My son spoke the dreaded words a few days ago. “Can you help me sort out a fancy dress costume…..”. All went surprisingly well until it came to the hair.

A change of hair colour was required.

A can of temporary hair dye was purchased, and carefully applied. Bingo it’s the right colour, job done.

Unfortunately I missed the small print on the can, in particular the lines “apply sparingly” and “apply in short bursts, with only a few seconds application required to successfully dye hair”.

Maybe using the whole can up in one application was a bit overkill…

Well a few days later, multiple hair washes have failed to remove the temporary hair colour from my son. The hair spray also does a really good job of permanently changing the colour of pillows and bed sheets.

I’m betting that the temporary hair colour will outlast the first garden flowers of the year.

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School drop off

I would share the School drop off with my partner.  It was something I never really thought much about, just a task you try to complete as quick as possible.  Just try to make sure your son arrives on time, hasn’t forgotten anything and looks reasonably tidy.  When it was my responsibility things tended not to be that well organised and my poor son was often last to arrive just seconds before the start of school.  

The School pick up was always more sort after as you could then spend time with your kid.  

I never gave any thought to social aspect of the school transport process.  

That was before the world changed.

Now fast forward 10 months and I find myself in the long summer school break.  Suddenly I now appreciate how important the School drop and pickup has become.  Without the twice daily interactions with other parents the world has become a very isolating place.  Don’t get me wrong, spending days talking Pokémon and wrestling is rewarding, it’s time spent with the most important person in the world to me.  

But sometimes you yearn for contact with the outside world.  Even if it’s just a five minute moan about the great British summer. That’s where the School run comes in.  Since my partner died it has become my only consistent contact with the outside world.  Something I truly appreciate and look forward to.  Maybe that’s the reason my son is now often the first to arrive in the playground on a morning.  It buys me a couple more minutes in the real world.

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Splendid isolation 

I have always been a very social type of person, enjoying company, enjoying conversations.  That was before the world changed.

Now I spend significant amounts of time on my own.  It’s been one of the biggest adjustments I have had to make as a single parent.  The opportunities to go out into our mad old world just don’t seem to exist now.  It’s coming up to 11 months since my partner died, and in that time I have had two nights out.  One was for a meal with a family from school and the other was a trip with my son to watch the wrestling.   Living in a small village you just don’t see anyone after you return from school.

During the day the splendid isolation continues.  You do the school run in the morning then it’s a combination of housework, shopping and trying to do part time work from home.  Then it’s back to school on the pick up run.  The only regular interaction you get is with other parents at the school gates and the poor postman (I’m sure he could do without this every day).   Today I timed things and I had a 1 minute chat with the poor postie and 7 minutes with other parents.  That’s on top of the 2 minutes I spent on the phone trying to tell a random caller that I didn’t want a new kitchen or windows.   That’s why I treasure the time I get to spend with my son (even when it’s spent talking all things Pokémon). I am genuinely thankful to have the chance to spend time with my son.

 I always kind of recognised how tough it was for single parents, I just didn’t appreciate the isolation which could go with the role.  If I had known about the isolation straight after my partners death I think that it might have sent me over the edge.  Thankfully I’ve been able to adjust to it over the months. Now everything revolves around my son and nothing else really matters.  Living your life through your children.  I listened to someone on the radio who had also lost their partner and they also talked about living their life through the child.  It’s reassuring to know that I’m not the only person surviving splendid isolation in this way.

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One or two fonts of wisdom

One of the most perplexing aspects of the single parenting role I’ve found so far is the decision making process.  Over the weekend I’ve agonised over the following vexed problems:

  • Can my young son have a sleep over?
  • Do I get the puppy neutered?
  • Do I get the exploding tumble dryer fixed or replaced?
  • Can my young son watch Suicide Squad as all his friends have?
  • Is it time to buy new bedding?
  • Can my young son have a finger spinner as all his friends have them?
  • Has the oven gone past the point of common deciency and require cleaning?
  • Is it too soon after the world changed to go on holiday? Can we afford to go on holiday? Where to go on holiday? Should we take the puppy with us?
  • Can my son have the new IPad game as all his friends have it?
  • Can we survive the three remaining school weeks with two pairs of now under sized and very worn trousers?
  • Do I save my sons birthday cards or bin them?
  • Which Secondary School does my son go to next year?
  • Has my son got just got a cold or does he need to visit the doctor?
  • Can my son have a new lego figure to replace the one his dad may have accidentally hovered up?

And so it went on…

Before the world changed we would talk these questions through as a couple.  In most cases my partners insight and common sense would guide us to something like a decent answer.  Looking back it seemed so straightforward and rational.

Now it’s just me, its not straightforward and it’s certainly not rational.  I anguish over every decision, with often no guide to help me.  The biggest problem is that I try to second guess what my partner would have said and done.  I still try to come to a joint decision with my deceased partner.  Unfortunately I often would see the world differently to my partner.  I just can’t seem to second guess her great insights and wisdom.  I just can’t replicate her thought process.  As a result decision tend to get delayed, or constantly changed.  When decision are made they are often a compromise between my viewpoint and with my best guess of what my partners viewpoint would have been,  The decisions are often not very good in practice.   Something has to change.

So from now on I’m going to try and trust my own judgement more.  I’m going to try and learn from the mistakes I will make.  My hope is that my young son has inherited his mums insight and he will become my guiding light.  And yes my son did get a replacement lego figure.

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What do you say

What do you say when your son asks “do you send dead mums a birthday card, and if so where to?”

I had no answer.  I must have missed the class on this one.   It’s another one of those ‘I’m out of my depth here’.  If only I could find a Dummies Guide.

Thankfully my son came up with a solution. So in a few weeks a birthday card will be attached to a balloon and set off into the skies.  The wind will then do the rest.

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Lights out

Today I took our son to see wrestling.  It’s one of his favourite things.  

When we’ve gone in the past, his mum would stay at home, she hated wrestling.  We would return home to a bright and warm house, with mum peaking through the curtains waiting for us to return. 

That was before the world changed.

Tonight as I drove into our drive, I glimpsed the perfect metaphor for my changed life.

To the side of me was my excited son, still talking about today’s action.  In front of me was a cold and dark house, with no lights and no one waiting at the window.  

The lights have gone out in my world but I’m driven by the desire to give my son the best possible childhood.   

I’m off to bed to try and recharge the batteries.  Then I start again tomorrow trying to be a decent mum/dad.

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Some days…

It’s seven months since I lost my love and became a single parent.  I get ok days and then less than ok days.  Basically I’m still broken.

Yesterday I coped well with what life chucked at me.  Today is not so good.

On top of nothing seeming to go right, my son had problems at school. In the past we would talk these problems through as a couple.  Together we would normally find a solution.  Now, on my own, the solutions often don’t seem to come. My son deserves better than this and this gets me down.

Sometimes listening to music helps.

Sometimes just sticking to the routine helps.

Sometimes walking the dog helps.

Sometimes going for a run helps.

Sometimes a gallon of coffee helps.

Sometimes playing games with my son helps.

Sometimes talking to the ashes helps.

Sometimes reading uplifting books or blogs helps.

Some days (like today) nothing works.  From experience I know what I need to do.  I focus on being ready for my son tomorrow.  Once I get my son to bed then I’ll go to bed, and just write today off and hope for better tomorrow.