Dogs, Chaos, A Series of Unfinished Conversations

Indeed we do have a new family member. That new family member is currently trying to rip up my grass carpet whilst Bee hisses from the corner and Bob tries to, um, get to know her a little better... Oh dear. Bridget Jones is a beautiful, seven month old Beagle who is completely unhousetrained and completely gorgeous. Emilio LOVES her and we are hopefully going to get her trained as a therapy dog. What could possibly go wrong? Some may say crazy, I say the more the merrier. She has escaped from my apartment no less than 5 times in the last 2 days: the fun of chasing after her, having left the door open so the whole merry lot come tanking out into the park of the condo, well, how would you like your Mondays to go? Really, though? Yesterday, we had the Village over for brunch and mimosas...I don't actually know how many kids were here but it was absolute chaos and I loved it. Gradually, I think that Santa Maria Poppins is learning that I NEED a little chaos to survive and so is leaving my books where they are and not incessantly tidying Every. Little. Thing. My house is like my head; messy, disorganised and bursting full of love. Love in my head? Yes. I think that's right. 

Since the magic of Florida, we have had More Big Stuff going on. Emilio has started Speech Therapy and also started working with another angel who has mercifully danced into our lives at exactly the right moment. He is flying through our PECS training and has added new words to his repetoire. Currently, his favourite thing to wander around saying is, 'Peppa! George!" in an exact Mummy Pig voice. I am NOT jealous of a TV show character, I am NOT. It's not all about the actual words, of course it's not; it's about helping this bright little cookie learn to communicate with the big, bad world. But hearing his gorgeous voice saying 'banana' or 'pencil' or 'huevo' is just the most beautiful music. It's the most difficult thing, trying hard not to hope that he'll speak because whatever happens and however he is going to be is just perfect to me. But hope, I do. That he'll one day say 'I love you, Mama'. Or even 'I want to watch Peppa'. I'd take that. 

We also began the what-I-thought-would-be-hell Toilet Training. Again, how this child surprises me. Armed with the potty, the books, the Elmo DVD, the Elmo book, the PECS symbol and the millions of bleach...we began. Day 2 and he was doing it. Absolutely incredible. Incredible. We are still struggling to get the how-he-can-express-that-he-needs-to-go sitch, but he full on is doing it. The last few days, he's been a bit poorly (cue many cuddles and snuggles and, of course, Peppa) so there were a few accidents yesterday. These words I did utter: Emilio. For the love of god. You just have to pee in the potty. That is all. That is LITERALLY your only responsibility in life. I will do EVERY. OTHER. SINGLE. THING. FOR. YOU. Just pee in the potty! 

It made us both giggle our heads off. I wonder if he actually understood how ridiculous I was being. 

So yes, we are now a family of 6. I said no more furries until I have a farm. Well. I promise I will NOT get a goat until I have a farm. Or at least a big house with a big garden. No goats. Or pigs. 

Other Stuff I've Learned: 

1. You will never finish another conversation ever again. "Oh heeeeey! How was your...EMILIO?! STOP EATING THAT BIRTHDAY CAKE! IT'S NOT YOURS!" 

2. Or cup of coffee. 

3. There is no such thing as too much coffee. 

4. Sometimes you have to accept that 3.30am is when the day begins. Hard. But acceptance is key. 

5. Friends who are also parents will be so equally as desperate to talk to other adults as you are, that you will constantly interrupt each other, not really listening but absolutely hearing each other, in manner of Meredith and Christina, when you do actually see each other. 

6. You will NEVER do All Of The Things. Don't stop trying, but definitely know you won't. 

7. Going to the bank to pay Some Of The Things without either the Tiny Human or the Furry Family absolutely feels like a 2 week vacay. You should def have a piña colada on the way there. 

8. Running after the fastest Toddler ever to have existed is both terrifying and hilarious. Where did he go NOW? 

9. Bedtime stories remain the most perfect place to exist. 

10. Saturday nights on the sofa, with the furries, the greatest love of your life fast asleep in dreamland, a great book and a glass of red is everything. Absolutely everything. 

11. 9pm is too late to go to bed.  

Travel

Did we go to see our family? Yes, we did. Yes. We. Did. Emilio, being allowed to actually get out of his bed when he woke at 3.30am on the day of travel, was particularly delighted with himself. The everything went all according to plan. We had priority check in, we had priority security on account of being a parent with a child (THANK YOU, PERU. NOTE TO ALL OTHER COUNTRIES IN THE WORLD: THEY HAVE REDUCED LINES BECAUSE THEY ARE LITTLE!!), straight through into the Lounge where I encountered for the first time, a children's section. Actually shamazing. Onto the plane where we had been upgraded to the first row...all was going swimmingly...until it wasn't. The neurologist said to just give him Melatonin to calm him and make him sleep. What the neurologist doesn't get is that my son LOATHES AND ABHORS the sleep and fights it with every breath in his body, every fibre of his being. So, instead of inducing calm...the sleepiness made him rage. I was introduced to the blood curdling scream at however many metres above sea level. As was the rest of the plane. Such was the level of torture, that the stewardess asked if anything could be done. I did not punch her because I do not believe in violence, nevertheless, to say it was a stressful time would be an inaccuracy. To say that I nearly threw both of us out the plane would be slightly exaggerating. I'll leave you to your thoughts...

However. People keep getting more wonderful. Sat beside us was a gentleman from Illinois. Almost close to landing, and only after Emilio had climbed on him and played with his beard, did he share that 12 years ago he was on a flight back from China with his baby girl daughter...along with 39 other infants who had just been adopted. He also had many friends with children with autism. He couldn't have been kinder and I couldn't be more grateful. Thank you, kind sir, should you ever read this, for showing such compassion when I was losing my mind and showing no patience whatsoever. Thank you. 

Landing in Orlando...my, oh my. They were INCREDIBLE. "Hello, Miss Kelly, we are waiting to accompany you with your son and make sure this next part is as stress free as we can make it." Yes, I whimpered. Anyone travelling with a person with additional needs, you go ahead and contact the airlines AND the airports. I am so glad I did - what a service and with such wonderful humour and humility. Again, thank you. 

And then. We had made it. We had actually got out of one country with its ridiculous rules and stuff into a country I have the utmost disrespect for due to its president (lower case intended), yet adore. I love Florida. LOVE. IT. It's hot and gorgeous and people are friendly and the roads are wide and no one is trying to literally ram your car and kill your child crossing the road. Yes, you have problems - guns and school shootings and gay club shootings. There is NO point trying to go there. But you are also the home of MIckey and Harry Potter World. Where people buy your $400 grocery bill and don't even want a thanks. Where the car in front pays your toll, just coz. Get over guns, stay as human as you are, and I'm yours. 

With all this, I am certain that my child picked up on family vibes. Certain of it. Meeting my gorgeous nephew and his gorgeous girlfriend after our long day and their long day and a SCREAMING MELTDOWN minutes before in the restaurant...what did he do? He puts both hands up and waves (backwards - the most amazing thing ever) and says 'hi! hi!'. Not once has he done this before. Yes the 'hi' and yes the waving but not both at the same time with both hands. This set the tone of our holiday. He just changed. I can't explain it and I can't even say what I mean...he just changed. More vocal, more interactive, completely accepting of all of our journeys, new people, new experiences. He lit up. He came even more alive. I am convinced that my son knew that the people we were with are my most important people. Convinced. And now he has a family. A grandma and a papa, aunts and uncles and cousins - the most amazing cousins anyone could ask for. Leading up to this trip, I was nervous. He is so different, my neurodiverse little piece of heaven, so I was nervous that he wouldn't be one of them...he's exactly one of them. Just one of our massive big gang, bringing something special to our already special mix. A & E, C & A, D & L, O & L: this little boy is the luckiest cousin in the world. And he has still got more to meet! 

It wasn't easy to get us there. In fact, it seemed impossible...but when faced with impossibility, I generally shout something offensive and go at it head on. There were new elements of parenting that were thrown up in our faces and new things I had to learn. As ever, my temper is my worst trait and it's taking everything I have to calm it. Despite years of not giving a flying filangie what anyone thinks, or perhaps building my persona to give off that impression, I really can't cope with the screaming in public. It sets my nerves on edge and makes me react angrily...I'm working on it. Working on it on a plane, when you've 5 hours and 45 minutes to go is new levels of hell. 

But totally, utterly worth it. 

Smashing it...and then not...

Have we lived a thousand lives since the last post? I do believe we have. 

So many, multiple things have been going on and, at times, I have genuinely felt like I was SMASHING this. Like, actually, the obstacles were rearing their ugly heads right, left and centre, and I was just blowing them to smitherines like a big, swinging wrecking ball. I came in like a...yeah, anyway.  

Now I had achieved the getting of Emilio's passport, I decided that the travelling on a plane should go ahead. We had booked tickets to go to Cusco in the long weekend, as a trial run. The flight is less than an hour, my friend was coming, it was all going to be ok. As it happened, the stress and panic of how to best try even attempt to prepare a child on the Spectrum for a flight, was immense. I tried to pre-empt every single little thing. I contacted the airline and the airport to tell them we were coming. I asked what services they provide for people with disabilities. I took the buggy and luggage enough for a month; I planned, replanned and overprepared for every, little thing. 

Was Emilio even a tiny bit phased? No. No, he was not. Born for the jetset lifestyle. We had an amazing time, being outdoors, seeing blue sky and green grass and animals and Pilar! It was just the most beautiful few days in one of my most favourite places in the world. Sleep is not our friend, nor was it in the mountains, despite long days out in the fresh air, but when you're just happy and on holiday and surrounded by incredible landscape...who cares about sleep? Sleep is for the weak! 

Lovely Pilar (aka Lady On Wheels in Cusco - HIGHLY recommended!) drove us around to explore Pisac ruins, the market, the place where the llamas live, the place where we went horse riding, the restaurants and back to Cusco to fly home. The boy was in his element. Nature is clearly key. Oh, hi Lima...

On our return, I went ahead with the plans for the next trip...which should be happening tomorrow. I say should be, because of the RIDICULOUSNESS of what I've had to do to make it possible for us to go. 

Visa for E. Required notarised copies of birth certificate and adoption certificate and a 2 hour wait at the Embassy. 

Approved.  Whooohooooo. 

Car booked, hotel booked, flights booked. We are a go. 

But no. NO, NO, NO! So, in Peru, if you are travelling out of the country with your child and the other parent is not, you need something called a 'permiso'. That the other parent gives permission for you to take your child out of the country without them. Legit. Would one think, then, that I, being a Single, would need such permise? No. No, but you would be wrong. OF COURSE I need this. Just when I think I'm smashing all of the things, some such thing jumps up and goes, 'HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAAH!'. 

Therefore, I have been to the Notaria no less than 5 times to try and retrieve said document. The hold up was that the 'original' birth certificate that I was given by #whoisjoseluis was not, in fact, the original. It was an original but not printed on the right paper. WTAF. Secondly, an 'original' certificate is only valid for 3 months. Again. WTAF. So, friend's driver to the rescue. There is a machine where you can go and print your documents which last only 3 months. A simple process at last! Again, no. NO, NO, NO. Only if you are a Peruvian can you use this machine. Alas, I cannot retrieve E's birth certificate. 

But do you know who can? 

Literally any Peruvian who has his DNI number. Actually anyone. Except his mum. Makes sense. 

Anyway, thankfully, thankfully, thankfully, the day was saved by my friend's driver. I have the permiso; that is that I, Marianne, give MYSELF permission to take MY son out of the country. Signed Me. I mean...

I have all the things, I have enough food packed to last a 3 week sail across the Atlantic, I have more Peppa Pig and Paw Patrol downloaded than I care to admit and I have a carry on suitcase with all the books, all the playdough, all the colouring and all the building. The airport and airline have secured us priority, I have all of the things. Do I trust that they'll let us through? Do I chooky. 

Watch this space and wish this Mama the luck. 

xxxx

Some lighter moments...

The last few posts have been a bit raw, a bit too real, perhaps, and definitely quite serious. It's time to get silly again. This week is another Absolute Doozy, but I'm going to choose to focus on the fun rather than the freakstorm that it's become. 

So, I may have mentioned this before, but I KNOW I am a hot mess. I know it. I never know where my keys/bag/shoes/laptop etc are. Not one time. And I can hear my mum and dad in my head saying that if I just put things in the same place all the time, then there they would be. Actually, that's my dad. My mum never knows where her stuff is either. But here! The thing is! We KNOW we haven't lost the stuff, it's just that they are temporarily not in the place we thought they were. Anyway. All of the days I wake up and run around looking for said stuff, I'm fine with. But now I have Maria Poppins in my life. She is now witnessing the absolute HOT MESS that I am before I leave for work. She chuckles along, 'Lo que falta?', 'Que esta buscando?'... I'm ALWAYS missing something and I'm ALWAYS looking for something, OK, Santa Maria Poppins, just let me get on with it?! Man, do I want to feel judged at 6.55am? Though, she's not. She's just trying to help. And often she knows where my *insert whatever is lost here* is! 

So that is one fairly amusing daily occurance. 

Another was last Friday when I've had the best Single shame to date. So, there I was, out with the kids who were being picked up late, solely because one of those kids was a friend's and she had asked me to hang out with him until he was collected. Somehow, that resulted in me looking after 8 children from another class for 40 minutes. Luckily, I really like kids and we were having a lot of fun. So I said to this little girl, all of 6 years old, 'Can you just stay here a minute, I have to go and get my son from outside.'

'You have a son?' says she. 

'I do!' say I. 

'I think something is missing!' says she. 

*ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!!!*

'What's that, sweetheart?' say I, patiently.

'A ring!' 

*WTF?* 

'A ring?'

'Yes, you don't have one.'

Observant little monkey. 

'Correct, I don't. Do you mean you think I need to have an esposo because I have a little boy?'

'Well, don't you?'

'No, I don't. I'm just on my own with my son. I'm not married.'

'Aaaaaaah. That's why.'

And off she went. She was not remotely bothered that I had no husband. Just that I had no ring. I resisted the urge to start Single Ladies-ing on her...she's 6, she don't need my history. 

And then on to the bureaucratic NIGHTMARE our lives have become. I am now in possession of my baby's ID card AND his passport. OH YES I AM. We got the ID card last week, thanks to Santa Maria Poppins knowing stuff like I can get someone round to the house because Emilio is Autistic. They came. They were not clever. They made a mistake. We had to redo a thing. It got Delayed. But now we have it! 

Then the passport. You get that in a day. We went prepared with fruit and toys and hoping that we would get preferencial - which we did. The girl taking the photo had some issues. 'Can you get him to shut his mouth so we can't see all his teeth?'. 

I mean. Have I explained this situation? Do YOU want to try and get him to shut his mouth? TAKE THE PHOTO, YOU SILLY GIRL! He's not allowed to smile. We have Peppa on, above the camera so that you can get your stupid photo with his eyes looking at the camera. Do you know how difficult that is???? Anyway. We did it. She said it would be ready in one hour. And if not, before 4pm. Which was 7 hours later. So not much difference. 

Then I got a text to say it was ready! Yay! So I went to collect it. It was not ready. It was exactly the opposite of ready. As in, not ready. Apparently, when you get the text to say it's ready, that's not what it means. It means you need to wait another 20 minutes because that's 40 minutes and 20 minutes which make 1 hour. Whit? Aye, awrite. Anyway, I sat for one more hour and then left with it in my hand. 

Every little bit of officialdom that I have to do in Peru makes me either see red or laugh. I try to laugh now, because what's the point in being angry. Getting a passport on the self same day is brilliant so credit where credit is due. Getting a text to say it's ready when it's not ready is exactly the type of thing I expect. I love this country and its chaotic, yet strictly strict ways. And seeing my son's name on another official document just sends me giddy. 

Thank you, Peru. You are beautiful, chaotic, disorganised yet insist on somewhat ridiculous rules being followed to the T. And you gave me the most incredible boy. Viva, Peru!

Working 9 til 5 (except not)

When they say the honeymoon period is over...

The boy who brought joy to my life has been home 20 and a bit weeks now and the time came, after our 4 months together, for this New Mummy to go back to being Another Marianne. The 'Miss' variety. I'm not going to lie, I did go back kicking and screaming. People kept saying that I would be 'glad of the break,' and 'it will be good to be around grown ups again,' and that my brain might just curl up and die if I didn't start using it again (not convinced this is a thing!). After having my week of depressed hell and loneliness recently, where I thought it was horrific, I did wonder...but no. No, that is not me. I would MUCH rather be at home with my little hedgehog (who is sporting Action Man haircut again this week 👦) than be away from him. However, the lure of a classroom is just too great.

It's so crazy thinking back on the first weeks and months until now. He used to sleep in his own bed; there's not a shot of that happening any time soon or ever again. For either of us. He used to scream merry Hell for all kinds of stuff, none of which I knew the reason for or how to help. Now I know some of it. Food remains a major source of joy and torment. Where to draw the line? Do I always just give him the fruit because it IS healthy and I love that he has the freedom to demand food when he wants it? As opposed to his previous life. Or do I deal with the absolute hissy fit when he isn't allowed? It's just (another) banana, for crying out loud!

Waiting. My baby HATES waiting. He wants to cross that road right this second. Cars? What cars? Who cares about the cars? Let us just run right into the cars and why not? He HATES going back on himself. I find it hilarious and I empathise. When I used to live in Edinburgh, there was a bus stop about a 2 minute walk from the flat. But you had to go out and turn right and essentially go back the way you came in order to move forward to the next destination. Even in the frizziest of rains, I couldn't do it. I always, ALWAYS went the extra few minutes to the next bus stop along the way. Along the route. Further towards my destination. I just couldn't bear the walking backwards in order to go forwards. Seems Emilio has the same thing; it's just that he's got neither the words nor the spatial freedom to express these choices. But I learned quickly and now we just don't. Makes both of us happy. 

He responds more to Maria Poppins than to me at times. Man, does that hurt. Is there a pain like your child interacting more with another person than with you? When they run and cuddle her as she arrives in the morning but they ACTIVELY ignore you when you come home from work? Is there? I thought I knew what pain felt like...this is a new level! 

I know it's the language. This is something I didn't place enough weight on at the beginning. Because he doesn't use language to communicate, I thought that it wouldn't be too much of an intrusion to introduce English into his life. But, my brain which has studied the education and the pedagogy, my brain which has studied the Inclusion and the Special Educational Needs and Disability? That brain? It knew that language is acquired and only by exposure can it make sense. And that just because there aren't any words coming out of his mouth yet doesn't mean that there isn't a whole galaxy of understanding bubbling underneath. The way children make sense of their world is both exquisite and fascinating. I failed to place importance on Emilio's mother tongue because he wasn't speaking and that was a rookie error; the boy knows a lot! And I will choose to believe that's why he responds more to Maria Poppins at times...

The last few days have been extra, extra difficult. You know when you know that something is just right? That no other thing would have been even half as right as what this right feels like? But even though that's the case, my GOOOODDDD would it be nice if someone was there to help... That's where we are at the moment. I am struggling as a full time working, single mum to a baby with special needs and managing to walk my dogs. Which sounds ridiculous. But it's really not. Mondays are horrific. An actual horror show. But does my needy dog care that my child with Autism can't cope with the fact that it's Monday and the buggy is broken therefore he'll have to walk to the park and he won't walk to the park and the dogs are pulling in different directions and he just lies down on the pavement and has a massive meltdown?? Do you think Bella gives a flying filangie about that? Nope. She does not. He doesn't care that it is Monday and he's struggling. She doesn't care that I'm struggling because he's struggling and it's raining and the pavements are slippy and everyone is just needing something from me that I don't have to give!! 

Welcome to the absolute shitstorm of single parenting, people. It can only get better! 

The Rollercoaster of Parenting

It really is, though, isn't it? And yes, Ronan is now playing in my head and life is, indeed, that rollercoaster also. But man alive, does Parenting make you feel higher than the Empire State and lower than something that's really low. Like an octobass (I googled that). Last week's hardships and loneliness were overtaken by absolute beauty, joy and elation this week, and, desperately sadly, our last week together as I return to work tomorrow. 

I'm part of an online support group for Mamas who have children with Autism. So often, posts are positive and sharing milestones and equally as often, they're not. They're full of 'Autism won today'. It kind of drives me a wee bit daft, reading those, but I realise that to cope with pretty much anything in life, you need connection. I thank Russell Brand for speaking about this frequently and spreading that message. It's a topic that comes up in our wee ex-pat group here, how a lack of community can really make you feel isolated and it affects your way of looking at life. We have tried to correct it. We have tried really hard to build a strong community who support one another and I think we've nailed it, actually. It was to this community that I turned when my boy had his first proper Autistic Meltdown In Public. 

Is there any way to describe what that was like? I'm not sure. Is there any way to describe the pain I felt, knowing something was hurting him and he couldn't tell me what? Unlikely, but you probably know that feeling anyway. Is there a way to describe how I felt, knowing that I was being judged, seeing countless people stop and literally stare at us, as I tried to calm my screaming child? Absolutely. LIVID. FURIOUS. DISGUSTED. SICK TO MY VERY STOMACH. How DARE you. How VERY DARE you. You don't need to know that this child is Autistic. You don't. You don't need to see that I am white and he is brown. You don't need to think that I'm a bad mother, or that I've done something, or that maybe he's not mine. Because that's what I saw in those eyes staring at us. What you need to do, the HUMAN thing to do, is think that this child is having a hard time and either you offer some f*cking help or you MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS. You. Just. Walk. On. 

Clearly, I'm over this episode. 

Thankfully, the boy is. And so we move on. 

The respect I have for parents is just overwhelming. Jeez Louise, it is so hard. But. BUT. MASSIVE BUT (hahaha). Over the last couple of weeks, there has been some sort of development BOOM in my baby. As well as singing all day long, he has started to communicate his wants and needs. Like, so much. We are working on PECS and he can now use the pictures to tell me he wants a granadilla. He can say granadilla. Not properly, like, but it's a start. He had said his name. He points. He POINTS! He looks up at his toys/fruit bowl (thank you, Sar) and says 'ahí'. He waves. He came to give me a kiss, one particularly beautiful morning. Man, these eyes have a way of leaking when I'm writing... He wants to walk when we walk the dogs. At the beginning, when I tried to get him to walk, so concerned was I about his physical development and the people who were saying he should be able to walk this far etc, he had utter, catastrophic meltdowns on the pavement which left us both broken. Now, he stands at the door. Sure, he still throws himself on the ground and cries when we have to stop (and pick up poo!). But now, he's out of that in a minute. He just gets up and carries on. Like that's what happens in life. Picks himself up and off he goes. 

All of this, all of these things that are going on just give me pause to say: In. His. Own. Time. This child is so incredible and I feel so lucky and so blessed to be his mummy. Tomorrow is another new change for him, for us both. I have to go away and leave him, like all parents eventually have to do. We are so fortunate to have had 4 months together and man, I'm excited about his next steps. I can only hope that I'm there to see most of them, when they happen first.  

Happy Mother's Day. Whether you're a Mama or an Auntie or a Friend or the Biggest Support Ever for that Mama. I thank you and we thank you. xxxx

Nobody wants to be lonely...

So, I guess I started this blog as a way to get all the frustrations of going through the process off my chest. Secondary to that was that I thought maybe it would encourage other people to adopt, specifically other single people. But, as you all know, I got my baby. We have been together for 14 weeks - that's all???? It feels like forever. It feels like we are just part of each other...I mean, that's what I feel. I've absolutely no idea whatsoever what Emilio feels. 

When he came home, it felt normal. It felt like this is what I have been waiting for my whole life: someone to love. A friend wrote on my FB that our need to love another is so strong, as humans, that she was so glad I had finally got my person. She's right, I think. Our drive to connect to another being is just pure, raw biology. Most people find a partner, right? Lots of people want to have kids - cement their love and create another being out of that love. Biology, too, right? But what about us? The ones who really do crave a love of their own, but it just didn't happen that way? The ones that know that they SUCK at romantic love but that the love they have, the love they are capable of is just bursting, straining, surging to get to another human and that human is the baby they adopt? We are a rare breed, I believe, but we do exist. And now, I'm beginning to find out what that's really like. After all the paperwork and the checking and the frustrating process...now, I am learning what it's like to Mum, Alone. 

This week has been really, really hard. My baby has come on leaps and bounds. So much so that I'm not the one to notice a lot of the time. Our village comment frequently, 'Marianne, he's a different child to the one I met a couple of months ago,' etc. I see differences, obviously, but not in the way other people do. He is happy most of the time. He wakes up singing, or shouting 'OH-OH' in the most Scottish accent you've ever heard. He cuddles, he snuggles, he laughs, he plays, he melts my heart daily. But this week, things have gone off-kilter and I don't know why. Sleep has been horrendous, he's had almighty meltdowns about napping and it's just been pretty brutal. Some plans didn't work out the way I thought they would mid week as well and this had such a massive impact on me, that I realised I wasn't quite as ok with life as I had thought. The cold, harsh reality of Single Mumming has set in. 

A couple of weeks ago I got Man-Flu. Now, we know that is just a cold with a bit of a virus. We know that we can power through such nonsense. However. When faced with a child and 2 dogs to walk and no one to help, you can end up feeling pretty sorry for yourself when you genuinely feel like CRAP. This was Cold, Harsh Reality No. 1. The only person who was able to offer to help was someone I could kiss forever for offering, but that I really couldn't inflict my 3 year old child on! 

The second was this week. I feel like crap. I am as lonely as the biggest bag of lonely things. I am desperate for some company. Our nanny is wonderful and a joy to talk to, but she is not one of my close friends. Feeling isolated and alone, in my opinion, is one of the worst things to feel and now I can't shake it. My friend who has also been on maternity leave just went back to work and I suspect this has contributed to my general crappy mood. THIS is the reality of being a single parent. I am so lucky to have the village and the support that I have, SO LUCKY, and I know it. But unless you have been a single parent, you have no idea. As my beautiful Bestest put it, you could be facing the long, long day on your own but you know that, at some point, that other person who loves you and your child is coming home. The Single People don't have that. 

I am not complaining. Just so that's out there. I am DELIGHTED with my life choices and, mother of all that is nature, I love my baby so much, I might just explode, as I've said before. I'm just telling it like it is and the reality of loneliness is brutal. The lowest point of this has made me question everything except one thing. Everything except whether I have done the right thing by adopting my baby boy. He is my Everything. It's just that, whilst I have been laughing through the shocked looks and comments about doing this myself, obviously a part of me wished I wasn't. And that has been the sucker punch this week.