Small wins, people, small wins. That's what it's about. It's when you realise that what with punching on with doctors and specialists and social workers and the department of human services and your brother and having painful conversations with your mum who is a bit shattered at having to put your (unpleasant uncooperative) dad into a home, which will mean selling hers (aka LIFE), you've been downing a few sherbies every night....and then you just stop. Four nights ago. Soda an lime, mmmmm.
It's when you realise that what with the above you've got on the get up-work-look after the family-look after mum-worry-sleep badly treadmill and you're sore and stiff and feeling soft and weak....and then one day you get up and muck around on the exercise ball and do your theraband drills and roll on the roller and lift a few weights. Creaky is a choice. Not mine. Not today
More anon, sparklers!
1 comment:
Yassss Kweeeeeeen
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