Thank fuckety fuck for that.
The summer is done. Gone. Over.
It’s time for the kids to go back to school, and I can go back to work for a rest.
Truthfully we have had a decent summer. Nate hasn't needed any hospital stays although he had blood in his stomach, a UTI, and had a run of ”stoppy breathies” which self resolved ( although blue is now not a favourite colour of mine). I’ve had a lovely time with the kids and Freddie. But there comes a time when I’m ready for a break.
We managed our trip to London even with my anxiety levels through the roof. I was informed somewhat unhelpfully by my husband that the process of sorting and packing ” is only as stressful as you let it be”. You may me surprised to learn that I didn't poke his eyes out with a fork. Tempting though it was.
Nate enjoyed a boat trip down the Thames, and his first football match. We were very well looked after at Arsenal and had a good spy at the really expensive level while finding their Changing Places toilet. I absolutely did not start crying at the sight of Nate and Michael, and Thea and Michael watching football together.
Shit there's something in my eye again.
My daughter says the summer holidays flew by. Well yes that's what happens when you’re booked on 4 weeks worth of sports camps. There's only so much eye rolling one mother can take.
We've had some days out, and some days in. Nate met up with some of his friends from school, and we fitted in rebound and hydrotherapy sessions at school which were brilliant.
Oh and I may or may not have read 47 books ( I can multi task) **most on kindle unlimited, or on offer I hasten to add for Michael’s benefit! **
However, the one thing we weren't able to do this holiday is to spend some quality time with our daughter. We usually take her away while Nate is at respite, but as you know unfortunately we aren't able to access any respite at the moment. We heard before the holidays that we are looking at another 6-9 month wait. I'm not going to lie, it was quite a blow. I may joke, and I am aware that I can be incredibly blase about some pretty horrible situations but I do struggle at times. Luckily netball helps.
Nothing quite like an elbow to the eye to take your mind off everyday shit.
As a couple we have been hitting our local every week for the pub quiz. Quality coupley time that isn’t it. Mind some really bloody random questions are thrown out every week and sadly my knowledge of music from the 60s ( amongst other facts) is a bit lacking. I also didn't know the name of a tiny bone in the skull the other week which led Michael to question my career in science and education in general. FFS. Never ends in an argument honestly...
I have written before about continuity of care and how especially important this is for complex individuals so we were disappointed to find out that Nate’s social worker had left. Then, more recently, we learned Nate’s neurologist (who first met him when he was days old) no longer works at the hospital. Gutted.
The first job of September will be to make contact with the new social worker. Poor woman. Although she hasn't got off to the best start by sending her ”hello I’m your new social worker” letter to the wrong address.
I now look forward to my traditional “ lack of sleep before the first day back at school” night safe in the knowledge that tomorrow I can have a wee without the dog following me into the bathroom. Creepy little git.
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