What is normal, anyway?

Some days, I'm tickety-boo, happy as Larry, getting on with life just fine, thanks.
Yesterday was one such day. It wasn't a perfect day, all sunshine and roses, but I was fine. I reacted to the good things and bad things as I thought I should. Kids misbehaving? They get told off. Kids being fun? I enjoy them. All was level, all was even.

Friday night was another such time. As previously mentioned, A was on nights. G was really poorly during the night. Mostly awake most of the night and when asleep, crying and thrashing about (in my bed by this time). Turned out to be an ear infection and antibiotics are a marvellous thing. The reason for mentioning this episode is that it should not have been ok. You see, around midnight, G puked In My Bed. A lot of the anxiety issues I face come back to my vomit phobia. Yes, I know, no one likes being sick. But most people don't actually have panic attacks when someone is sick near them or they think they might be sick. So G pukes all over my dressing gown (there was enough warning to protect the bedding, phew) and I sit there, rubbing his back, cuddling him, wiping his mouth, telling him it will be ok. In fact, we sit there under the sick covered dressing gown until he falls asleep. Then I creep out and clear up. And it is ok. I texted A to keep him posted but not because I desperately needed his reassurance to be able to cope.

I tell you this for two reasons. One, I think while this blog is in its infancy, getting various facts out there like the vomit phobia is a useful thing to do so that as I move on, you know where I'm coming from a bit more. Success can be celebrated more easily when you know the problem overcome. Failure can be commiserated and moved on from. Two, for those of you who see me regularly, I don't want you to think I'm faking if I seem ok. Chances are, you've got a good day. I might be pretending sometimes too, though I don't think that is always bad either.

It simply isn't predictable when I will be ok and when I won't and that is, I think, my first hurdle to attack. Accepting that one day at a time means just that. Enjoy the good days, really enjoy them. And when the bad days come, remember the good days and have hope that there will be a good one again very soon. God knows my limits. He gives me days off and I must remember to be grateful.