Tough times

Things at home – and by that I mean family life in general, both my immediate unit of four and my wider family – have been quite tough recently.

Obviously, as I’ve blogged about before, Mr J is going to be made redundant this year (probably the summer but still no definite timings as yet) so that’s been weighing heavily on my mind,  especially coupled with my own PR and copywriting business not doing so well right now. He’s been getting some great freelance work to run alongside his soon to be gone job but this has meant he’s hardly been home. Sometimes, he’s been to work all day, back for half an hour then gone out to football; other times, he’s gone out at 615am and come back at 1230/1am. Thank goodness for FaceTime or we’d have forgotten what he looks like! We’ve all missed him – the girls because they love their daft daddy and me because I’ve been parenting two stubborn, headstrong girls solo!

On top of this, and another reason I’ve missed Mr J for emotional support, my darling grandad has been diagnosed with liver cancer – just a few months after having bowel cancer surgery. He’s my mum’s dad and we’ve always been a close knit unit so him being sick has knock on effects on us all. He’s been told surgery is definitely not possible as he’s in his 80s and recovery from further surgery could be fatal. He’s a truly warm and caring gentleman, he adores his family (almost as much as he loves Derby County!) and I just can’t even begin to think about life without him in it. He’s got his opinions and he’s not afraid to voice them but he’s a fantastic dad, grandad and great grandad. He’s coping well but there’s a lot of to-ing and fro-ing to the hospital, different conversations with different consultants and naturally, it’s a very unsettling, upsetting time for him.

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Mum has been to every appointment with him and has had to hear every single heartbreaking, bone crushing word spoken by the consultants giving their opinion, diagnosis and prognosis. I cannot imagine what pain and anguish this has brought her. She is such an emotional woman but she’s remained my grandad’s rock throughout and I know she always will. This, however, has no doubt been the cause of her developing pleurisy – another concern for my little head and big heart.

And of course, as it’s such a stressful time and when I could really do with some rest in the evenings, my littlest lady has decided to start waking up every half hour to an hour! I’m sure it’s teething and maybe separation anxiety but that’s not made it easier to deal with.

As any parent of a non sleeper knows, sleep deprivation really is torture. For me, it’s resulting in insomnia. I struggle to get to sleep and stay asleep. I’m exhausted pretty much all the time and most evenings are a blur. Sadly, littlest won’t settle at all for Mr J so I can’t go to bed early or rest downstairs while he puts her back to bed, like biggie would, because she screams and screams until I’m there.

So yeah, life has been tough!

However, I’m still here and alive! I’m trying to remain positive by repeating to myself that all these things happen for a reason and that, where the littlest is concerned, it shall improve as it’s just a (difficult) phase. I’m trying my best to not bottle things up and share my feelings but it’s hard when Mr J is working a lot and I don’t like dumping on friends because I know they must have their own issues or they don’t feel comfortable in an outpouring of stuff like this.

For now, I’m taking one day at a time and looking for the good in each hour…

 

 

 

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