I like to have a plan. In fact I like to have a plan and a back up plan. And maybe a plan C to back up plans A and B. But recent events have taught me that sometimes Life likes to blow a big fat raspberry in your face and mess up all your plans.
Yes I'm talking about that accident again - the one which has left my husband in a leg brace unable to work, or even walk much, and me as the main breadwinner. It's a good job I don't eat much bread (bloating and suchlike).
OK so we've now got (extra) money worries and the stress of coping day to day building crutches and a wheelchair into every movement making a simple trip to the supermarket a mission. My poor husband is getting used to being left in the car while I dash in and out of places, like he's an ancient incontinent dog or something.
But the thing I like least is the disruption to my relatively ordered life and the inability to plan ahead.
Often I sit with my friends over coffee and we compare diaries and co-ordinate our lives to include shopping trips, childcare and chats. Recently I haven't even had time for the coffee.
I might arrange my diary and sit back and relax. Then half an hour later another letter drops through the door from one medical professional or another who needs to see my husband, or more specifically, his knee. And I get the diary out again and rearrange all my carefully laid plans.
I'm not complaining really - I'm immensely grateful for all the attention aimed at getting him walking as normally as possible, and dare I hope, working again in the future.
I'm enormously lucky that I make money writing online from home but happy as I am that I get to work in my pyjamas, I feel quite stressed feeling the pressure is on for me to make money to fritter on electricity and petrol instead of it being "extra" money for treats.
I'm getting into the swing of it slowly. And luckily with daddy being home all the time the children are slowly getting used to asking him for brioche/help with homework/attention instead of the slightly deranged woman tapping away on her laptop.
Yes I'm talking about that accident again - the one which has left my husband in a leg brace unable to work, or even walk much, and me as the main breadwinner. It's a good job I don't eat much bread (bloating and suchlike).
OK so we've now got (extra) money worries and the stress of coping day to day building crutches and a wheelchair into every movement making a simple trip to the supermarket a mission. My poor husband is getting used to being left in the car while I dash in and out of places, like he's an ancient incontinent dog or something.
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| Madmumof7, Maddadof7 and of course, his crutches on a recent visit to Portsmouth to see our older boys & the FDiL. |
But the thing I like least is the disruption to my relatively ordered life and the inability to plan ahead.
Often I sit with my friends over coffee and we compare diaries and co-ordinate our lives to include shopping trips, childcare and chats. Recently I haven't even had time for the coffee.
I might arrange my diary and sit back and relax. Then half an hour later another letter drops through the door from one medical professional or another who needs to see my husband, or more specifically, his knee. And I get the diary out again and rearrange all my carefully laid plans.
I'm not complaining really - I'm immensely grateful for all the attention aimed at getting him walking as normally as possible, and dare I hope, working again in the future.
I'm enormously lucky that I make money writing online from home but happy as I am that I get to work in my pyjamas, I feel quite stressed feeling the pressure is on for me to make money to fritter on electricity and petrol instead of it being "extra" money for treats.
I'm getting into the swing of it slowly. And luckily with daddy being home all the time the children are slowly getting used to asking him for brioche/help with homework/attention instead of the slightly deranged woman tapping away on her laptop.
