What an understatement. Having got over the hurdle of ‘LFDABS’ (littlest’s first day at big school) and the ensuing anxiety attacks, I had to brace myself in preparation for travelling to London to attend my ATOS (group hired by the government to decide whether or not they believe that I’m unfit for work…apparently your own GPs word is not enough) assessment. I was petrified. Not of the possibility that they might rule against me, but simply of the journey, the waiting, the talking and attempt at explaining. Petrified that I wouldn’t be able to explain myself well enough, that they wouldn’t understand.
Well, it’s done now and I did everything I could. I answered all of the assessor’s questions (in between bouts of tears) and told the truth with as much detail and as many recent examples as I could remember. So now we wait. I saw my doctor today and it is his intention to continue to keep me certified as unfit for work so I pray that these ATOS dudes accept all information that they’ve been presented with and agreed that I should continue to receive support.
To change the subject, littlest is getting on brilliantly at school. I totally underestimated his ability to adapt and I am so very, very proud. Not once has he cried, clung or told me he doesn’t want to go. He seems to have taken to it wonderfully and I really look forward to picking him up and asking him all about his day (I also miss him LOADS). The only downside is that littlest comes out absolutely shattered and 4pm - 5pm is ratbaggy meltdown time. I’ve learned that what littlest needs is time to sit quietly and to have his dinner pronto. He seems to be extra hungry even though I always take a snack for him when I collect him. Usually though, after a sit down and some dinner, then he settles down. In fact, we’ve taken to having a walk in the early evening. Well, I walk and littlest takes in the fresh air from his comfy buggy (we’d not get more than 200 yards if he were to walk, before he’d start complaining). So I walk and littlest relaxes and we talk, stop to look at the vapour trails the airplanes make, we talk some more and stop again, this time to collect a feather that littlest has spotted. It’s therapeutic for both of us and when we are sufficiently de-stressed by the fresh air we head home for snuggles with would-be husband before bedtime.
We are finding our new groove and it’s alright.