Oh no. It’s even worse than I had deluded myself into imagining. I’m a good 3 stones heavier than I thought I was so forgive me while I go and weep and wail in a dark cupboard somewhere.
Actually it could have been worse… I could have died before I realised I needed to do something, now that would have been something to feel crap about. As it is I console myself in the knowledge that I’ve woken up and smelled the coffee BEFORE I knew how bad it really was.
I wanted to cry but when my son saw my horror he took my hand looked into my sad fat face with his deepest brown eyes and said “you are beautiful mummy, we are going to make you even more beautiful, I’m here to help you”
Oh my days, my heart burst and I spluttered out tears and stuff all over the poor lad.
He turned my despair to joy, looking at a beautiful part of yourself and feeling that overwhelming love is something that puts all else into perspective. I thank God he was there at that moment with me because it made me realise that I’m not proud of those numbers but I am so proud of the young man I made. I got something right. How could I have been so selfish to allow this to happen to me, to risk leaving them alone, with no mother? Gosh wake up call heard loud and clear.
Now we’re going for a walk on the beach and I don’t know if I’ll ever come back because my son said we’re not allowed to take money… for two reasons, 1. so that we can’t buy ice cream or fish and chips and 2. so that we have no choice but to walk back from wherever we walk to
Smart cookie this one, he knows his mummy only too well. I’ll be back later, sandy and exhausted and glowing from the fresh sea air and no doubt even closer than before to my precious boy.