Ironically it all started over panadol and my refusal to let him have some. It is strange how children find taking medicine either painfully repulsive OR peculiarly fascinating. We seem to be going through the peculiarly fascinating stage right now. But this is where lessons need to be taught and as I endeavoured to explain, panadol is not a treat. In the end it became more about me making a point to him, as his tantrum almost warranted some mild sedative intervention. Regardless, I stood strong. Or more like stood weak, with a strong mind. By early afternoon, I was at my wit's end. I knew we needed to get out of the house. A few more hours of the nonsense endured throughout the morning and we both may have required hypnotic therapy.
I buckled the boys into the car and headed straight for the park. I chose a park nearby where we used to live in Coogee. I thought this one would be especially good for today as it is quiet, overlooks the ocean and no one is ever there, at least on the occasions I have been to it. Feeling as physically zapped as I did, I was in no mood for park chit chat. How awful that sounds. Well, it did the trick and slowly slowly I witnessed my pent-up little spring of a 3 year old, unwind. We played for about an hour and a half. We all needed this time so very desperately. This evening we were in a much calmer space. Scott is working late, so I made a point of working through dinner, baths & bedtime early and methodically. I have been up to the boys every night this week, averaging about 3 hours sleep per night. So I am thinking I may just hit the sack myself sooner than later. You need every bit of strength you can muster, when you're on the frontline.