Had a low day today.
Unsettled sleep during the night due to Miss Four having a bit of a fever and “sore tummy” which landed her wriggling and squirming in my bed for about an hour until some paracetamol kicked in. I also had Mr Two on the other side of me, since I was still nervous about the location of his cot in relation to the unstable chimney.
Add to that a few sharp aftershocks to wake me up during the night, I felt distinctly sleep deprived by morning. When I read some of the stories in the morning paper, particularly about one of the babies that had died, I was feeling emotional and weepy.
During the day I found the pit of my stomach sat permanently knotted. I was snappy and emotional. I took two of the children to a 2-year-old’s birthday party, and found myself struggling to socialise with the other Mums. The other guests swapped notes about the extent of damage to their homes and neighbourhoods, but I just wanted to find a corner to curl up in and hide from it all.
Everyone in our family is showing the strain in their own way. Miss Seven is having a short fuse, and gets upset and grumpy with very small triggers from either siblings or parents. She’s also very restless, wanting to run or bounce or jiggle. Unfortunately it’s been a wet few days, with little opportunity for her to release that energy outside.
Miss Four prefers a quiet space to herself, where she likes to draw or build with blocks on her own. She gets rattled when her siblings get too close into her space.
Mr Two is just clingy. He doesn’t like being out of my sight for very long, and if he happens to be in another room when an aftershock hits he comes running to find me saying “wobble wobble” and wanting lots of cuddles. He’s even come running in saying “wobble” when I think it’s not a real tremor.
Hubby’s also showing a tendency to retreat when he can. His “cave” of choice is facebook games (particularly farmtown). I’m finding the writing of this blog helpful, and distracting myself with non-earthquake related reading.
In normal times I usually find prayer helpful, but at the moment when I try to pray I end up all choked up or crying. I know that being able to cry it out would be an important part of healing. I believe that in some way I can’t quite feel at the moment, God is a part of that crying, and in time I’ll find comfort there. I’m just not there yet.
To all my readers in Christchurch: consider this a big hug to you all.
To my out-of-Christchurch readers: Thank you for your thoughts, love and prayers. It might not seem much, but just to know you’re thinking about us actually makes a huge difference at the emotional level. It’s appreciated more than you can realise.