…you buy a replacement, to promptly find the original? That.
Peanut lost his teething necklace this week. We turned the house upside down looking for it. I ordered a new one online, paid for express delivery to get it to us pronto. But we evidently did not look hard enough, because when I took a pair of shorts off last night, it fell out of one of the pockets. Neither of us could remember taking the necklace off him, Saturday morning we could clearly remember not putting it on after swimming; no point as we were going to shove him straight into the shower with Hubs when we got home. But after that it was a blank.
Normally we lay out Peanut’s PJs while he’s in the bath and add his necklace to the pile of clothes and nappy, except I put the necklace into my pocket and we didn’t notice in the bedtime routine that it hadn’t gone back on again. These are short shorts, I don’t feel comfy wearing them out unless it is stinking hot; so through the week they didn’t get a look in, what with going to work and all. But yesterday was hot, they were on the top of my pile of casual clothes, so I pulled them on.
I know in my heart of hearts, the amber can’t possibly work, you can’t absorb it through your skin, so how could it? But he does sleep better when he’s wearing it and his bottom molars came through with a lot less hassle than the rest of them, still no sign of the top molars yet though. I carried a Jasper stone in my hand when he was being born and there was a rose quartz I carried in my pocket for ages too. Talismans or not, if drugs with ‘placebo’ on the outside of them have been shown to improve IBS, who knows what else will work?
Isn’t it awful that familiar actions click over without us being aware of them. Which is where being mindful comes in handy, and would have saved us $40 this week. The day to day minutiae of life adds up to 24 hours all too quickly, which is why routines can both help and hinder. Had I been concentrating on what I was doing, I would have known where Archie’s necklace was. Had I been concentrating, I would have realised I’d not put it back on his neck after his bath. Had I been more observant, I would have realised he wasn’t wearing it when I got him dressed the next day. I need to try harder to be here now, to notice what I’m doing on autopilot, if that isn’t an oxymoron.
We had a great mental health and wellbeing talk this week, and I mean good. I thought I’d blogged about it already, but I hadn’t. I renewed my prescription for Zoloft this week, I didn’t see my normal GP, in the lead up to Christmas you take what you can get, and I simply asked for a time I was available. The GP was pleased that my anxiety and the worryingly dark thoughts had dissipated. I still get cross, angry and ride the waves of life, but I no longer am constantly second-guessing what I’m doing and feeling like I’m less than worthy. I also like knowing that my mood swings have levelled, I’m on a much more even keel now. To use another sailing euphemism, my centreboard is firmly down stabilising me against the squalls.
I had to visit the osteo today, where I’d curled up in a ball on Wednesday, my stomach muscles had gone into spasm, pulling the whole of my left hand side out of whack, causing pain through my shoulders, neck and up over to my right eye. What a state to be in. I was very sore, the initial massage was like nails being hammered in, then my body started to relax before the adjustment. One of which, C3-5 on the right-hand side of my neck, was a crack and a half. I felt heaps better after my appointment, but when I called Andrea to ask for help, she said “How are you?” I replied “I’m ok. Actually, no I’m not. I’m a bit stiff. And I’m in quite a bit of pain.”
Why do we always say we’re ok when we’re blatantly not? I wouldn’t be calling up to request an appointment that day if I was fine now would I? Are we that worried about what people will think if we reach out for help? Andrea spent most of my session talking about a childhood friend who was diagnosed with schizophrenia and taken his own life last week. The inquest is still going on, and she’s worried she can’t get to his funeral; what a thing to have to be worrying about. I’m glad she felt comfortable to be able to talk about it with me, all I did was ask how she was going. She must have realised I meant it genuinely, you don’t unbend to people about something like that normally.
A busy weekend of Christmas catch-ups coming up, hopefully I enjoy them all and don’t lose anything on the way through distraction!