I am sitting in my living room and I feel extremely anxious. I can’t pin point why.
Is it that Tilly is going back to school? Have I forgotten something crucial? I’ve remembered to purchase a revoltingly cute cat lunch box and drinks container. I’ve remembered to check that her clothes still fit her and have replaced the coat she lost on a school trip (grrr). I know which children I have volunteered to look after and when and I have checked the finish time of cheerleading. I have even checked that there weren’t any vital letters in her bag that I forgot to read and I know what she wants in her sandwiches tomorrow (cheese apparently in the absence of salami). I’ll miss her and have had a truly brilliant summer holidays but I don’t think that’s why I’m anxious.
Phoebe starting preschool? Emotional definitely but I know the setting well and she doesn’t start for another week at least so I don’t think it’s that. I’ll save the inevitable sobbing for after I drop her off.
Hmm. Maybe it’s the extension. That is a source of some anxiety for sure. In fact I don’t really want to think about having to choose a builder because it’s too hard. And I’m definitely struggling with the fact that two of the builders are called Mark. I might change one of their names to Bob to make it easier to remember. But the big anxiety doesn’t come until we pick one of them so I don’t think it’s that.
Paul going up some mountains? Well this one is a bit of a concern. It’s a pretty big thing he’s doing compared to anything he has done before. But he’s out now walking up Carterknowle Road with 1.5 litres of water, 3 litres of orange juice and a dozen cans of ginger beer in his backpack so he must be physically ready. And mentally frankly if he’s prepared to do that instead of watching TV. I’ll save my personal panic for Thursday evening I think when I make a last minute dash to buy more flapjack.
Me? There is a chance I might have a job interview coming up for an evening job. That’s scary since it’s been a good few years since I had an interview and I don’t own a suit any more. But it’s not definite so I don’t think it’s the source of my current anxiety. It’s clearly daunting that I will have more time on my hands once Phoebe is in preschool, especially since I need to use it effectively, but that’s sort of exciting. Books (and all my other responsibilities outside of being a mum) can finally get more focus. That’s a good thing.
So what is it? I’m pretty sure that it’s all really about change. The girls are growing up and don’t need me in quite the same way (gulp). My husband has gone even more sporty (he mentioned a marathon today, God help us. I think I preferred it when it was Tuesday night football). And I’m getting some time to myself so I need to use it constructively (eek). Things are starting to be different. Frankly it’s no wonder I’m anxious. I thought it was going to get back to “normal” from tomorrow but “normal” seems to be shifting.
I’m going to keep calm and have a drink of orange juice. Oh bugger Paul has taken it up the road with him. It’ll have to be a cup of tea then.