And I’m back 😁

It was a short break, granted, but the last few days have given me enough time to think things over, especially where I want to go with this blog and what in my humble opinion the purpose of a blog is. So here it goes:

I’ve survived a bloody stroke, a little blip like this won’t stop me from doing the things I enjoy.

I think the main point of criticism was that my blog so far gave the impression that I’m having to struggle through this on my own.

This is of course not the case. I’ve had help which I am extremely grateful for and I think I’ve expressed that gratitude either personally or virtually. But there are still hundreds of situations a day where I am on my own and all I’ve done is describe a snapshot of my day that’s representative of how I feel in that particular moment, with the added bonus of stroke brain.

It goes without saying that my husband Andrew is a kind, funny, caring and supportive human being. That’s why I married him and we had children. He is my Mr Right and my rock and we jokingly call him my carer now, and has been flipping wonderful from day one. If I haven’t given him enough credit on my blog, again, I’m sorry and I’ll recrify this moving forward, but reading back I personally feel that he has been given quite a lot of press, comparatively.

If you look at all the other (parent) bloggers, they don’t talk about their other halves, they pick their topic and describe their very own everyday lives and thoughts and struggles. That doesn’t make me think they’re a single parent or the other one must be a lazy bum because they never mention them. My niche is parenting with a handicap and the clue is in the title: mummy had a stroke talks about how mummy (me) had a stroke. End of.

Also who wants to read “I’ve changed Archie’s nappy while Andrew mows the lawn, puts the shopping away and takes the rubbish out” (he does all these things). It goes without saying that we share household chores (although we do bicker who does more!). Instead, what I want to describe is how changing Archie’s pooey bum is a bit of a nightmare when you have only got one hand that’s working and the room is spinning as if you sat in one of those awful funfair teacup thingies.

And, in my defence, I do actually do quite a bit of solo parenting. So does Andy. So does everyone. We share the load. When he works, I have both kids. When I work (or used to as currently on sick leave) he has them, and he’s bloody good at it. Due to his job I currently often just have them a couple of hours at a time (he works from home mainly which is fab) but in all honesty that’s enough for stroke brain to cope and I often have to go somewhere dark and quiet afterwards (garage anyone?)

So, the last few days have shown me two things: firstly, Andy and I are singing from the same hymn sheet, and that’s all that counts to me. He’s actually always been ok with this blog and like me, doesn’t really understand what all the drama is about. Secondly, I seem to have grown a thicker skin. Whether that’s old age or a bonus from the stroke, who knows 😉 possibly a side effect of the old Sertraline, come to think of it, but I’m good. We are good. I’m going to carry on here (having taken a few things on board, for sure), and I hope you guys will still enjoy my ramblings.

On that note: off to listen to my fave podcast atm, Casefile. I’ve stopped watching stuff in the evening as it makes my eyes go funny, so audio it is.

Good night everyone. X

On a different note: started to paint the kitchen tiles and totes chuffed

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