It is hard to explain how tired I feel at times, or how overwhelming this task of being a 'single mum' can be. I think it is unlikely that any one person can ever really understand another on this kind of level. Yesterday I felt very down and rather stressed. My two year old - whilst being loving, happy and fun to be with the overwhelming majority of the time - is approaching the age of three and has started being rather stroppy at some points in the mornings. Hopefully this will pass as all these 'phases' do, but at the moment this mainly manifests itself in two fairly hard-to-cope-with ways.
Firstly, she is unhappy about having to sit in a pushchair on the way to school, and makes this clear by getting in and out several times, usually ending in me strapping her in amongst tears and shouting because we are running out of time. Obviously at two it is hard for her to understand that we have to be some places at a set time, and most of the time I can stay calm, but it does try my patience. And this is usually after she has decided to strip completely naked in order to go to the toilet at about 8.15am. Reading these things back it sounds like nothing at all to have to cope with, but at times it feels impossible.
I know I have so much to be grateful for. Two beautiful, kind,caring and healthy children. A house of my own. A life in a country that offers relative freedom for a woman in my position. A certain degreee of financial security. Laughs, cuddles and giggles on a daily basis.
But that does not stop me from occasionally wondering if I can really keep on doing this on a daily basis? I will, of course, I have no choice, but maybe it is just possible that this everlasting tiredness will eventually eat away at the years I have left. Sometimes I catch myself counting the years until the girls are old enough to cope with life on their own. Am I going to make it that far? And how far is that exactly? Age fifteen? Eighteen? Twenty?
An early night tonight I think. And some more positive thoughts tomorrow.