First off, let me just say how utterly wonderful you lot are (not that you need me to tell you anyway, but just in case you need a little reminder). Did you see how many of you shared my last two posts?
I. AM. POSITIVELY. OVERWHELMED!
Thank you SO much, my lovelies. I really am extremely grateful ❤
…and a little bit giddy too (hmmm, no change there then!)
My stats were BOOMING!
I’m guessing that last post, especially, resonated with many of you and whilst everything I pen (well, type, actually) is completely heartfelt, I simply adored writing it.
I doubt I’ll ever compose anything so emotive again. But hey, I live in hope! Never say never, eh?
So, I have an hour spare to talk to you…a very precious hour, I’ll have you know. However, 60 minutes doesn’t give me much time to waffle on, so I’ll have to type quickly.
Right now I have the luxury of sitting alone (I’m alone, hoorah, hoorah, HOORAH!!) in my beloved Cornwall (yep, Cornwall, again!) in a delightful place, in the sunshine, sipping orange juice with ice – I know what you’re thinking -what a rock and roll lifestyle I lead! whilst Hannah and her daddy cause mayhem elsewhere.
I can see the sea glimmering through the ginormous macrocarpa trees. It’s just heavenly here. I can’t begin to tell you how much I needed this break away…and this hour alone.
I’ve never done a blog post anywhere other than at Broccoli HQ, and it feels GREAT!…and like what proper grown-up bloggers might do.
Note to self: must do this again sometime.
…although I’d like to press pause on the growing up bit, It’s far too overrated, in my opinion.
Life’s got a bit too taxing and serious-like at Broccoli HQ recently, but fear not, I shan’t burden you with our woes in this post.
So let’s crack on, shall we?…
As I mentioned earlier, I really needed this break. Really! You’ll probably know by now that Hannah’s my world. But sometimes, just sometimes, I’m desperate for a bit of a breather. I don’t necessarily mean a break away from her per se, but just a release from the stresses that come with having an extra Special Child….and having no consistent respite support whatsoever. Don’t worry, you don’t have to get the violins out for me just yet *wink*
It’s not Hannah’s fault, by any means, she’s wonderful…and a joy to be around…although she does inadvertently tire me out rather a lot.
In terms of a break, I don’t mean solely the strain of physically caring and lifting and generally lugging about either, it’s the emotional stuff too – the worry, the planning, the appointments and therapies and liaising with professionals and paperwork, the juggling – and I’m not alluding to being in the Circus here; although my good friend Kevin may disagree on that one. He’s always said that I’d make a cracking circus act with my unwanted facial hair.
Oh, the cheek of it!
No, the list is endless – and whilst Hannah does go to school – which should, some assume, give me some respite; unless you live it, you can’t possibly grasp the enormity of it all…that all-consuming living-breathing big stress-ball that rumbles around inside of you 24/7, 365. It all takes its toll. It’s as if my head (and my heart) need a bit of a metaphorical sabbatical (if that makes sense) so I can just keep the momentum going. So sometimes, just sometimes, the medicine I need is distance, just to recharge.
So here I am, recharging just a little, far away from Broccoli HQ.
…and, until we move down here permanently, we’re going to plan our year far better than ever – regardless of appointments and ‘stuff’ – and come down here much more regularly.
Holidays don’t alleviate me from doing the usual lifting and carrying and constantly pre-empting things and getting up in the night and all the exact the same stuff that happens at Broccoli HQ (but devoid of all the equipment and ‘things’ that make life a little easier). But nonetheless, life moves at a far slower pace. No appointments, no having to speak with people or telephones or emails, no missing out on my lunch because I’m more occupied with ensuring Hannah’s eaten properly before ferrying her around to different places…and… It’s. Just. Heavenly.
What’s even more heavenly (and the whole point of this post) is seeing Hannah blissfully happy and relaxed. The sun is warming her skin (thankfully, it’s not boiling hot) and she has a little glow about her.
So, finally getting to the point of this post, I want to tell you about something that happened yesterday that made me catch my breath…in a very good way.
Every day, whilst down here, we visit the beach…sometimes even several times a day because we’re only 5 minutes’ walk away. No matter what the weather, no matter what time of year we come, you’ll probably find us there. We’re lucky that Hannah’s buggy can navigate the sand too…otherwise, we’d be in a bit of a pickle, as some days she’ll refuse to walk on the sand; don’t ask me why, I have absolutely NO idea *scratches head in confusion* and she’s getting far too heavy for me to carry her any distance these days.
So, as the sun was getting ready to set, we went back to visit the beach. There were very few people around, the tide was gently coming in and there was hardly a breeze. Everything was…well…just perfect really – although I still long for the day when we can go exploring in rock pools together. Hannah was happy to put her feet on the sand, so I let her toddle around in her own little world and she flapped her hands and made her sing song noises. She was a very contented little bunny.
As we approached the shoreline, she noticed the gentle ripples of the water gradually approaching. She noticed…hoorah! The water was relatively warm and so we stood there in the water, holding hands (she mostly doesn’t ‘do’ holding hands, so this deserves another ‘hoorah’!) we faced the horizon, just she and I, for a moment. I just wanted time to stand still. But then the moment had gone and Hannah wanted to step farther into the shallow water and suddenly, being the spontaneous little girl that she is, she laughed, such a hearty laugh, pulled away from me and darted away from the approaching wave and onto dry land. Well, when I say ‘wave’, it was about an inch high, so I’m not sure whether that constitutes a ‘wave’ or not.
I didn’t have much choice but to let go of her hand as she pulled away, but I (no doubt) emulated a working sheepdog with a precious flock – making sure she didn’t stray from arm’s length. Hannah roared with laughter as she ‘ran’ (ish) into the water, waited for a ‘wave’ to come, pre-empted its approach, then ‘ran’ away from it – JUST like any other average child might do.
Backwards and forwards she went, laughing until it made her cough and she went all red in the head.
It really did make me catch my breath…and I must confess that I got a bit misty eyed.
I was one proud mama.
…well, not too proud of her coughing and going all red in the head, but you get my drift.
Not only did she enjoy having her feet in the water, she was able to anticipate exactly when a wave was coming and then run away from it….AND she found it funny.
Blissful, heavenly stuff to observe and be a part of…until she stumbled (as is often the case, but thankfully not face first this time!), fell into the water, bottom first and then ended up going back to our house with a nappy so soaked and swollen she looked like a little sumo wrestler from the waist down.
Note to self: take swim nappies next time!
So, there you have it. I completely get that for some ‘average’ parents, this is no ‘biggy’, but for us, it’s massive. I never thought we’d see the day when something like this would happen and, even if it never happens again, I’ll treasure that moment forever.
I could’ve just said, she was happy when she ran into the sea and ran out again, this’d never happened before and she fell into the water…but that would’ve been a remarkably short post for me and that’s not how I roll. Sorry about that!
So, that’s all for now my lovelies. I’ve slightly exceeded my hour (whoops!), my orange juice with ice has gone and I’m now off to the beach again with the kid.
Thanks, as always, for stopping by.
I hope you’re enjoying some sunshine too.
Until next time
This post is dedicated to Cindy and her beautiful family. It was SO lovely to meet you all…and I really do hope we meet again. xx