Me, Him, The Four, The Cakes, The Laundry - The Life.


Sigh. I don’t mean to keep banging on about No.1.. but here i go again…
It’s now 10p.m. And I’ve spent the last half an hour holding a sobbing soggy sad pile of 11 year old.
First time ever he has screeched “It’s not FAIR! I don’t WANT to be ill and hurt any more! Why can’t I just be NORMAL?”.
Tis the friggin pits, and I very nearly joined in with his howling.

I’ve calmed him and soothed him and tucked him up and stroked his hair and left him calm in a dark room.

And now I’m sitting at my desk, listening for any more sounds and feeling very very sad and helpless and angry.

And I want to go curl up in my boys bed with him and make it all okay again.

And I can’t.

And that’s a bit shit.

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