I went back to Toddlers yesterday. I missed my friends. I was feeling utterly guilty at leaving numerous people in the lurch. I wanted to meet the new families. I wanted to thank people. To catch up with people. To give my son the chance to make a paper plate owl. To see for myself the new toys I arranged. To engage.
It took all I had to get us both out of the door and to the church. It took slightly more not to walk away at the door. It was wonderful to see my friends, thank people, catch up. It was terrifying. It got more terrifying. It took all afternoon and many levels of Angry Birds to be able to calm down emotionally.
I am not ready.
I am not flipping ready.
I am on a high dose of anti-anxiety medication. The children are settling into the new year. I have things to occupy me which generally leave me fulfilled. I have an amazing anniversary trip on the horizon. I have people to talk things over with. I am being there for others, gently and gradually.
And I’m not flipping ready to even visit my toddler group.
I just want to cry. But I also want to look nice for my husband, so I am determined to steel myself and go and get my hair coloured and cut.
Just one more game.