I started a new job 3 weeks ago. It was written on the wall that I was going to be made redundant again. My previous company was struggling with funding, travel expenses hadn’t been paid in months, our salaries were constantly being paid late, which added huge amounts of stress in a household dependent on one income, and finally when they found a new investor, the cherry on the cake was the demand that all operations (and staff) move to Dubai or be fired.
Since December that I’ve been in this state of panic – what will I do if I don’t get another job? How long can I survive?
Fortunately, amidst all the drama, God, the Universe, Mother Nature, whichever you prefer, conspired to help me and I found a new role. It’s not a permanent position but it pays well. And it gives me 12 months of room to breathe.
The only problem – it’s in London and I have to commute. I would say that this is more of a challenge than a problem. It’s not something like a serious illness that you can’t do anything about.
So I’ve made a plan to manage this challenge and I was hoping it would work. In the first weeks it was harder because I had to show my face in London every day but now I have managed to agree to work one day a week from home and I go to another office that’s closer to my house on another day, so all in all it’s not too bad.
Still, the kids have to get up much earlier in the morning and they go to bed slightly later than they’re used to. For the eldest two it’s not been much of a problem, but for the little one it clearly is – she gets sleepy at the end of the afternoon and starts temper tantrums which snowball into delays, which mean it takes longer to get her ready for bed, which means she sleeps less hours which means she wakes up and tantrums again… a cycle I have yet to break.
This morning was one such day. And I swear that I start off telling myself “I will be patient”, but after a tantrum from the little one, bickering with the eldest, stroppy responses, screams and shouts, stomping and kicking on the floor, and generally everybody just faffing and being late, I lost it. I started talking loud (well, shouting), being impatient myself, making a mess in the kitchen and cursing, being impatient with my “niece” Miss L, and generally being impatient and irritated with everyone.
On the way to school I drove too fast, which I shouldn’t have, and I lectured them with an aggressive tone.
I dropped them off at breakfast club but couldn’t drive off straight away as the door wasn’t open. As I looked at their little faces, they were all sad.
Finally they opened the door and I drove off. Angry, frustrated and upset, mainly with myself for not being able to “keep it together”. For not being able to show and lead by example of how to handle difficult situations where time is of the essence. For once more succumbing to the stress and not being mindful and letting things be as they are.
So what if I would be late?!? Is it worth the sadness on their faces? What if I had an accident on the way and met my demise? Worse, what if they were in the car with me? What if I hurt somebody?
I did hurt somebody. They were upset starting their day. Miss L was upset because I was impatient with her too. I am upset that I couldn’t keep my cool.
And just the other day I read a story on Facebook about a mother that died after having been stressing and rushing her kids to be able to get to work on time. And then she died. And that’s that. Life can end at any moment, it doesn’t wait for you to finish your book, or the soap on TV. It doesn’t wait for you to make amends with your estranged relative. It doesn’t wait for you to hug your kids one last time and say sorry and that you love them.
Life is only now. And knowing this intellectually, I pray that I can exercise it more and more in practice, and that days like this are but a faint memory of a distant past.
I love you all. I’m sorry. Always strive to be better today that you were yesterday. ❤️