Milk

It all started with milk.

Four pints of it spilled on the kitchen floor – to be exact.

You know that saying, ‘Don’t cry over spilt milk’?

Well, I don’t think that counts for four pints. Because, for me, there felt like there were a lot of reasons for crying. And cry I did. Repeatedly throughout the day.

It was the tipping point. I can’t lie. The point, one and a half weeks into the summer holidays, where I fell to my knees and felt beyond broken.

It’s just milk – but of course it’s never just milk.

It’s a build up of stress and exhaustion. A build up of over thinking, questioning ‘How am I going to do this forever?’

It’s feeling so disappointed in myself. Angry at myself for letting it happen. Then feeling awful for hating this life as much as I did in that moment.

But mopping up four pints of milk can make you feel defeated. Four pints of milk seeping behind the fridge and washing machine, under the ‘stick on’ floor tiles felt very representative of how out of control I felt. A complete mess.

So here I am, an afternoon cleaning later, an argument with my husband later, an ‘I hate my life!’ meltdown and a pointless drive around to cool off later, a pulling up the kitchen floor later – reminding you – if you’ve had a moment (or two or three etc) that you are not alone.

This is hard. Parenting a child with severe and profound physical and learning disabilities is hard. The spilled milk, the poo, the cleaning, the feeding, the lifting, the bathing, the worrying, the trying to keep them comfortable and happy – you know, just the regular parenting stuff times a billion. This. Is. Hard.

You can hate it, sometimes. You’re allowed.

You can be angry, sometimes. You’re allowed.

You can shout, sometimes. You’re allowed.

You didn’t think this is where you’d be. But here you are. And it’s tough.

Yes, there are BEAUTIFUL moments within the spilled milk. Those moments will keep you going. Those moments are everything. But they don’t always override the spilt milk.

Some days there are no bright sides, it’s just milk – four pints of it – everywhere on your kitchen floor.

I just hope you, like me, have someone kind to help you clean it up.

Keep going, tomorrow is a new day.

(And I need to go and buy some more milk.)