This weekend has been better and better. I have realised that part of my intense down (even before this awful week) was to do with the weather and the garden being so muddy and generally not being able to do the active outdoor stuff we normally do. I can't believe, reading this diary a year ago, how exactly the same I felt even down to describing how I felt about the children as "disconnected".
Saturday we intended to get my hair cut but instead we trawled the continental market in town and got olives and cheeses and such things. We were sorely tempted by a huge djembe as well, but when I laughingly told Martin it was the drum or the holiday he got a glint in his eye and I had to drag him away fast before he thought I was seriously giving him the choice. I need that holiday already, forget about how close I will be to homicide in September if we don't get to go away.
When we got home Martin and I cut my hair ourselves, a collaborative effort. You honestly can't tell. ;)
Church was as hard as I thought it would be. I knew that people expressing sympathy was going to happen and that to some extent I hate even worse people not being able to acknowledge that something big happened to us, but it's still so hard to keep it together. I want people to pretend not to notice that I'm crying to be honest, to say that they heard, they're sorry, is there anything they can do, and then walk away if I don't show any sign of wanting to talk about it.
I've also realised that sometimes when I tell other people about my miscarriages in order to help them grieve I'm actually just being bloody annoying. If they are struggling it's fine to say that I struggled too, or to suggest a way to help, but a couple of people have taken the opportunity to seriously unburden huge ammounts of information and make me feel like I'm expected to help them grieve their loss as well as mine! I don't mean this to be bitchy, and I'm not referring to anyone online lol ;) but I've been helplessly trapped a couple of times in long stories of how other people felt when it happened to them, and boy is that hard. Sometimes I just cry and cry, sometimes I feel like I have to get rid of them as soon as possible before I say something rude.
I'm relating this to how I validate Jenna. Typical, yes, I'm off on a discipline tangent again. I have found myself a few times saying, "Yes, I'm tired too." And so on. Understandably she reacts by huge wailing noises that are my cue that I didn't understand what she was saying to me. I've realised that sometimes what people of all ages need most isn't sympathy or empathy but confirmation. You feel like this. This happened. It's OK to be real with me.
When I say that I feel that way too, I'm really either making the discussion about me and stealing her thunder or negating her by saying that if I can cope she should too.
On that note, discipline is going well and so is the whole of my relationship with the children - especially Jenna. I have been working hard at avoiding criticising her but just commenting on what I see whether my mind silently categorises it into good or bad. Apart from a couple of times when, tired and emotional, I've told her to shut up (oh I know, I know)... The noise intollerance is better out of doors, or somewhere busy and exciting. Sudbury Museum of Childhood got another visit this afternoon and I didn't snap or nag once.