Joining in with Five Minute Friday hosted by Kate Motaung: word this week – turn
I toss and turn. 2am. My nemesis. Moriarty to my Sherlock. Insomnia rattles, shakes its chains, uninvited, like some unwelcome party guest, breaking the flow of my dreams, interrupting my sleep, the sleep I need to face it all, making me get up out of the bed I was enjoying so much, to pace the flat, trying to find something to do for an hour or so until sleep lulls again. 2pm. Dead on my feet. Things not turning out as I wanted – or need. Breathe. Patience. You’re tired, you think, do yourself a favour and ride it out. Be kind to yourself. Have a cup of tea, sit down for ten minutes and you’ll be fine. You’re not fine, however. You fall fast asleep, sat upright, tea in hand, waking to the feeling of your daughter gently pulling the cup out of your hand with her tiny, still-chubby hands. Turns out a ten minute nap is just the ticket. I feel refreshed. Able again. I’ll be fine for the five and a bit hours until bedtime. We’ll enjoy ourselves, we’ll have fun. I’ll be able to turn this nightmare of a life in to some decent childhood memories – admittedly strung together between stolen bathroom moments when the tears overwhelm me and flights of panic when life overwhelms. It’s not ideal. But then, nothing is. Making the best of what there is. That’s the turn of any Mama who loves their children as dearly as I love mine. Their childhood is sacred. My nemesis, my 2am tossing and turning, everything else: none of these things will dim my devotion to my mission. Of raising my children in as loving a place as possible. Their childhood is sacred. Nothing, nothing will get in the way of their inalienable right to a calm and loving childhood filled with warm and loving memories. I, their mother, owe them that. My shoulders are broad enough to take anything, even hurts soul-deep, so that they don’t have to be touched – even feather-like – by any darkness. Turns out it’s simple: you get through it by going through it. One day the tide will turn and we’ll be out the other side. I can see it. More importantly, I can feel it. Bristling, bobbing, revealing parts of itself. The little tease. It knows I want it.