I always feel melancholy when it rains

and it has been raining an awful lot these days.

The morning is here again though

and I am thankful for that.

It may be our need for a new mattress,

now ten years old

and having been the stage

for the beginnings of labour,

many bouts of sickness,

A place to talk,

A fabulous hideout

and even a trampoline,

now worn and dimpled with the passage of time

that has sent my back into spasming fits of pain.

Or it could be that i’m carrying too much weight on my frame

and sitting for long periods has pinched a nerve or something.

Or maybe it’s just that time of year

when my body screams ‘NO!’

after twelve months of pushing it too far

at that point when everything really ramps up a notch,

quite a few notches, actually

and there is no slowing down on the horizon at all.

Whatever the reasons,

I’ve found myself out of bed in the small hours of the morning.

Again.

It’s quite peaceful,

4am.

The house,

which mostly groans in overcapacity

during the daylight hours

is still and relaxed,

even the dogs snore quietly

as I pad past their place of rest

and outside

the birds are just beginning their early morning wake up calls.

I’ve been thinking (always thinking)

with a week of busy coming up -

growth hormone tests

kindergarten orientation days

high school orientation days

and

Noah’s first occupational therapy session,

thrown into the mix

of our everyday,

I’ve been thinking about

finding myself amongst the rubble.

I’ve been thinking about next year

and how everyone will be at school

and how people are already starting to ask if I will be going back to work

or what I am going to do with all of my spare time.

It kind of makes me want to laugh out loud.

Big whooping, side splitting yelps of guffaw

because I really can’t see that much changing at all.

In fact, the school has cautiously warned me not to wander too far

as they find their way with Ivy and all of her medical needs.

When I say that

I really mean that they have said,

in no uncertain terms,

that they feel overwhelmed and under prepared for my little girl,

who likes to throw the world her very best curve balls.

The same doctors will need to see her

and even though I will try to secure appointments outside of school hours

I know that every other mother,

with a school aged child

will be trying to do the same

and being realistic about things,

there will be the usual Ivy sickness

probably more

if I’m being honest with myself.

No, I will be staying at home.

At least for now.

Is there anything wrong with that,

I wonder.

I am just one generation ahead of my mother

but in that time it has suddenly become

socially unacceptable.

It may also be wrong to say

I am kind of looking forward to it.

I think I might like to try gardening,

that therapeutic ceremony

of digging in the earth and planting a seed

nurturing and babying,

watching and waiting for something beautiful to grow

and in doing that

I think I may be

nurturing some part of myself as well

and that little piece of me

that has been buried for so long

may just find the sun again.

Yes,

gardening sounds like something I could do.