It’s the busiest week of my year and obviously this is when my child gets sick. That’s good old Murphys Law right there. As if I wasn’t going to be up all night working I now have a second reason to forget about sleeping. Am I the only one who can’t help but have a momentary pity party in moments like these? It passes quickly. Because nothing consumes a mother’s mind faster than worry for a sickly child. Or maybe this is a new mother thing?
Normally a week like the one I am busy weathering would leave me sick. My face would break out, my eyes would develop Voldemort worthy rings, I’d either loose a few kilos from not taking the time to eat or pile them on from stress eating but most importantly my anxiety levels would be out of this world and my mind would struggle to see beyond the terrifying period ahead of me. I can’t help but notice that although I am heart sore and worried about my child, although I am miraculously living on next to no sleep, although I am indeed stressed about the million imminent deadlines my mind is clearer than it ever would have been in the past.
I am no long a little sail boat being torn apart by the tumultuous winds around me. I have a strong anchor. An anchor of perspective that motherhood has brought into my life.